


Set you Apart

by HarleysCompass



Series: Speak as Loud as Your Heart [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bisexual Character, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Graves gets another chance, I hope you are still ok with them, M/M, Married Couple, Percival Graves gets a hug, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, at least not by my standards, it's nothing to graphic, it's rated T just in case, mentions of torture, several actually, slow-ish?, yes there are still OCs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-11-06 08:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11032020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarleysCompass/pseuds/HarleysCompass
Summary: "He flinches at his own reflection some days, and during particularly stressful times, even his own gruff voice startles him.He’d rather Grindelwald torture him for the rest of his life then willingly hurt his children."Graves is trying to put the pieces of his life back together.  But life isn't a puzzle.  Once broken you can't slot the splinters back together.  At least, not as they once were.  Sometimes you need to just find another way to arrange the pieces.Fortunately, Graves has Newt to help him with that.





	1. And You Promise: I'll do Better

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again everyone! I hope life has been treating you well.  
> Thanks for giving this fic a chance if you're clicking on this one first, and thanks to all of you who read PYPA and have come back for more. For those of you clicking on this fic first, I suggest you read the first fic in this series: Pulling Your Puzzle Apart. You might be able to get away with not reading the first one, but this is a sequel/continuation so it'll make some more sense if you read PYPA first.
> 
> EDIT: Chapter 1 was a Sneak Peek but it is now an official chapter, yaaay! To those who have read this already, and are coming back to finish, please don't skip chapter 1! Thanks!
> 
> I tried to be careful with time and created a timeline to keep everything in order for myself so hopefully everything doesn't feel too jumbled, even with the flashbacks. The way I wrote out PYPA I did it so that it kind of picks up right at/after the movie, and stops just a bit before October. According to the Harry Potter wikia site, as well as my own research (i.e. watching the movie several times) I determined that according to my fic Graves is found on the 8th of December 1926. So, PYPA starts then and ends at the end of September 1927. This fic goes back a little bit, picks up part way through PYPA and actually focuses on what is going on with Graves rather then just the general feelings and situations, so the voice of the fic is a bit different. I hope ya'll like it. It's how the fic came to me so I hope the change doesn't feel weird? But there is more detail about what's going on, so I hope that makes up for it.  
> I took the advice of ladymischief and made the switches in time more noticeable. You will now see that all flashbacks or memories are going to be in italics. Thanks for the idea, ladymischief!
> 
> Thanks again for all the comments and attention you've given to PYPA. I really wrote these fics more for me, but I shared it hoping that other's might enjoy it. I'm glad that ya'll have so far. Thanks for everything!
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Graves gets a letter, several in fact. But there's really only one that matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Instead of sticking to one song for the chapter titles, this time I used several. Most likely because this fic is longer then PYPA, about four times longer in fact. And I also spent more time on this one then PYPA, so I kept finding music I thought worked really well for the feelings I wanted to capture while typing.  
> Anyway, chapter title comes from Light by Sleeping at Last ([link here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7egYKkIKqDs)). I read a song meaning site where someone said this is a song from a lover to another, but I personally feel it's from a parent to their child, so it feels suuuuuuper fitting for Graves in this series I'm writing.  
> Title is a play on a line that is repeated several times in the chorus:  
> "I promise, I'll do better."

In June, Graves receives a letter.

It was a quiet Saturday morning, one of his few good days, and it leaves him uneasy when he sees the name on the front.  He hasn’t yet sent his daily letter to his children, so why Arlene’s mother would be sending him a letter now has his stomach suddenly churning.  He was suspecting as much, he reminds himself, as he tears into the envelope and first reads over the letter.  It’s still a relief to know it’s something so simple.  Mabel is just requesting a list of Theodore’s closest friends.  Arlene’s parents are planning a party for his upcoming birthday, and she wants those his son cares about there.

It’s not that he’d forgotten his youngest child’s birthday was in two weeks.  He was acutely aware of this fact.  It’s more that he had decided, stubbornly, not to think about it.  His son is turning seven in two weeks and he won’t be seeing him.

He pretends like this doesn’t hurt, though there is no one to see that it does.

 

 

_ Arlene had always hated organizing events of any kind, so Percival usually planned everything.  She teased that it was his obsessive need to make sure everything was in its proper place that made him so good at it.  That if he was ever fired from MACUSA (because Merlin knows he would never quit or retire) he could become an event planner and probably be perfectly content with his life.  He’d never admit that she was probably right.  Theodore’s sixth birthday party had, of course, been perfect and meticulously planned, and at the end of which everyone had agreed it was the best party for a six-year-old they had ever been to.  His son had enjoyed himself, and that’s what counted.  What Percival remembers most, though, isn’t the party, but the day of his son’s actual birthday. _

_ It was a Friday and he had planned to work (as usual), and return home for a nice dinner (a little nicer than usual), and enjoy a small birthday cake with his family (less usual).  In the morning, as he had pulled on his suit jacket, Arlene had stopped him, kissed him softly, and told him he wasn’t going into work today.  She’d already sent a notice to Deputy Director Finley letting her know that Percival was going to miss work. _

_ Oh, where exactly was he going then? _

_ Apparently, that would be up to him to decide, but he was spending it with Theodore, and he wasn’t allowed to protest. _

_ Not that he would, but he still gave her an exasperated look over having gone over his head rather then ask him straight up. _

_ The day is spent at the whim of his youngest, who is as coordinated and focused as any child his age would be.  Which is to say, not at all.  The boy is very much like his mother in the fact that he is extremely curious and questions, literally, everything.  But he is also very much like his father in the fact that he is extremely single minded when he zeroes in on something he wants.  In this case, it’s the zoo.  The No-Maj one in Central Park, to be specific.  At first Percival is unsure about this, but he really can’t say no.  After all, it’s Theodore’s birthday, and he has been “extra extra good all month, please please  _ **_please_ ** _ Daddy?” _

_ He really can’t say no. _

_ They spend an inordinate amount of time looking at animals despite the lackluster setup.  Theodore manages to power through hours of running about, asking every question that he can think of, and dragging Percival right along behind him.  He stays at it way longer than he normally would, and by the time they head home there were dirty fingerprint stains on the sleeves and hotdog grease on the collar of his nicest overcoat, and his son passed out on his shoulder.  That night, after dinner and cake, Theodore is reluctant to let go of Percival as he sets him to bed. _

_ “Daddy, that was the bestest day ever.”  He says, half asleep yet completely matter of fact.  Percival thinks so too. _

_ It’s one of the few memories he clings to tightly when, five days later, Grindelwald comes to steal his face. _

 

 

Graves writes up that list for Mabel.  It isn’t very long, his son gets along just fine with other children, he just prefers to be close with only a few.  It’s a list of eight, three of which are the Rosental children.  While Theodore is closer with the youngest girl, the three children are practically cousins to his own and its been so long since they’d seen each other, he imagines it will do them all some good.

He doesn’t ask if he’s allowed to come.  Instead, Graves settles on asking if Theodore would be accepting of a gift.  While something like a present would seem harmless to anyone, Graves is aware that his children are going through something that would be hard on even the strongest adults.  He flinches at his own reflection some days, and during particularly stressful times, even his own gruff voice startles him.  A gift from him could help or it could negatively affect his children.  He’d rather Grindelwald torture him for the rest of his life then willingly hurt his children.

He sends the letter and waits.

Feeling restless, he spends some time scrubbing his townhouse from top to bottom by hand.  He keeps the townhouse spotless, so it doesn't necessarily need it but it's something to do.  There is one particular stain that has driven him crazy since the day he moved into the place.  It was left by the previous owners and he has absolutely no idea what it was, but it’s on the wall, right above the front door and it catches his eye every morning on his way out.  He’d put something over it but he’s determined to get it, and he honestly doesn’t know what he’d put there anyway.

Mabel eventually replies that he should send something, that it would be a good idea.  Not just for Theodore, but for Graves.

He leaves the stain and goes about his normal Saturday routine, writing his letter to his children, reviewing his department's most recent case, and pretending to relax and read a book later in the evening.  Mabel responds sometime during the day that they are now accepting the letters but still not reading them.  It’s better than their flat-out refusal of before, and Graves counts it as a small victory.

Part way through preparing dinner, he realizes he has no clue what to give his son.  He’s back at the stain not long after.  

 

On Monday, Newt returns from a week-long trip to South America.  Graves is relieved to see him again.  Not being able to see those he feels close to for extended periods of time tends to make him feel unsettled.  He’s gotten into the habit of leaving his office door open specifically for this reason.  Though it might also have something to do with the fact that the sight of closed doors often makes him feel light headed.  He’s been getting better.  But it’s still nice to see his new… friend, after a week of him being gone.  Auror Goldstein informs him in the morning and she has a look about her that leaves Graves feeling as if there is something she knows but isn’t telling him.

The magizoologist shows up unannounced at lunchtime, and Graves is barely allowed to put up a weak protest as he’s dragged from his work and off to lunch.  Goldstein gives an awkward look at him, somewhere between worried and secretive, from over the top of a case file.  She must have mentioned something to Newt, because at lunch the man doesn’t even hesitate.

“You should get him a pet.”  Graves is thrown by the comment, but Newt is like that.  He starts conversations expecting people will follow along without him having to lead into it.  None of that fluff of unnecessary small talk or setting up the conversation.  The efficiency of it is something Graves usually appreciates and he has gotten very adept in catching up to Newt’s conversations, but this time the non-sequitur has him giving Newt a confused look.  The man isn’t looking at him as he is feeding the Bowtruckle some woodlice.  When he does there's an uncomfortable expression on his face, cheeks slightly pink and a vague, awkward hand motion as if to sweep Graves’ look aside as he explains.  “I’ve been doing research on the benefits of keeping pets.  Specifically, with soldiers who suffer from Shell Shock.  I’ve found that having an animal companion is good for helping them deal with their trauma.  You should get your son a pet.”  It’s not the explanation he had been expecting, and the casual use of the word trauma makes his stomach twist.  But it’s the best idea he’s heard so far, and the more he thinks about it, the more he likes it.

 

 

_ When Percival and Arlene had gotten married they had thought about getting a familiar or animal companion of some kind.  Something to take care of and make their new home feel a bit more… homey.  However, when they went to the menagerie in Prospero Circle to pick one out they ran into complications.  Arlene liked birds just fine, but she felt bad about getting an owl as they deserved to be flying about, and in New York City that was just too suspicious.  Rats were out of the question, Arlene thought they were adorable, but Percival knew that the rats were picked up off the street (and out of the sewer) and not bred.  They went for the last traditional witch pet, and settled on a kitten.  Arlene and Percival both fell in love with the one they had picked up and were excited to take it home.  That is until Arlene began sneezing and her eyes watered so bad that they wouldn’t clear up for another two days.  Both of them knew there was a potion of some sort that could help with allergies, but it was tedious despite its simplicity.  Neither really had the time that would be necessary to make it so they, disappointed, went home. _

_ When their oldest was three, she loudly proclaimed she wanted a pet and thought it exceedingly unfair that Uncle Oliver had gotten a cat for  _ **_his_ ** _ daughter, Freda, for  _ **_her_ ** _ birthday, and why hadn’t Percival gotten one for Everett?  They seriously considered it, perhaps they should get her something small, it would help teach her responsibility.  They even deliberated on getting a Puffskein, despite how close that could be to breaking a rule, but that ended up falling through.  They found out Arlene was pregnant not long after, and their daughter had decided a younger sibling was just as good as a pet, and plus, Freda didn’t have one of  _ **_those_ ** _ so it worked out in the end. _

 

 

Graves spent a lot of time going through the notes Newt was letting him borrow, wanting to find something that would be good for Theodore.  He had sent a letter to Mabel making sure that they wouldn’t mind helping with a pet.  She thought it was a wonderful idea and she knew Theodore would love whatever he got.  Graves was sure of it too.  But he wanted to it to be perfect.  When he finally settled on one, he asked Newt where he would get his hands on a Kneazle.  The other man had frowned, perhaps a little disappointed that Graves hadn’t picked something more exotic, or perhaps because a triple X ranked pet for a seven-year-old might not be a good idea.  Actually, he was just trying to remember if he knew someone in the area that would be able to get one for Graves on such short notice.

“Kneazle’s are hardly  _ that _ dangerous.  I grew up with Hippogriffs, Mr. Graves, and they are far more temperamental than a  _ Kneazle _ .”  Theodore’s birthday was only a week away at this point, and he knew that he was going to be cutting it close, but he wanted it to be  _ perfect _ .

Despite agreeing that a Kneazle would be a fine pet for a seventh birthday present, Newt did wonder on why Graves chose the cat like creature.  The answer was simple to him.  It looked just like a normal cat, or enough like one, to allow his son to let the creature out of the house if he so wished.  As well as take it with him anywhere he desired without upsetting any No-Maj’s or MACUSA’s laws.  Knowing Theodore, he would want to take his new pet everywhere.  Newt thought Theodore sounded like a right young chap.  But also, because of one of Newt’s scratchy notes that had been crammed into one corner of one of the last pages:

Highly intelligent, independent.  Uncanny ability to detect suspicious and distrustful people.  Can be aggressive towards these individuals.

Newt is delighted by this fact, because it means that Graves read every note he’d written.

 

On the day of Theodore’s birthday, Graves receives a note from the man that Newt was able to get a hold of.  One newly house broken Kneazle kitten and all necessary supplies have been delivered to the proper address.  The man says nothing else in his missive.  None of the important things that Graves wants to hear.  Did he give the gift directly to Theodore?  How did he look?  Was he happy?  Or did his daughter take the boxes from this stranger?  Did she look well?  Was she smiling?  Or did Mabel take everything from him at the door, and surprise Theodore with it herself?

He’s scrubbing at the stain by lunch time, and he’d have kept at it if Newt hadn’t shown up unexpectedly.  Graves almost doesn’t let the younger man in.  He’s suspicious about the random house call and how Newt even knew his address.   He’s already got so much on his mind at the moment he almost tells the man to go back to Goldstein’s place.

He opens the door and offers him something to drink instead.

Newt declines the offer, setting up his suitcase on the coffee table and beckoning Graves down into it.  It’s the first time he’s been invited inside, and he hesitates long enough that Newt pops his head back up over the side and gives him a lopsided grin.

“It won’t bite, I promise.”  He means the suitcase, but Graves wonders if any of the creatures inside will, and wonders if he’s more worried about the creatures or the small confined space he is about to enter.  He climbs in.  The entering of the suitcase, and the little shack that the ladder leads down into feel tight and cramped and Graves almost turns back around and leaves right then and there.  He follows Newt out into the suitcase proper with very little prompting.

“They would love this.”  Is the first thought that comes to his head, and he doesn’t realize he’s said it aloud until Newt says:

“I’d love to have them, you can bring them down sometime.”  And he says it so easily, without any hint of insincerity, as if he fully expects that there will come a day when Graves will have his children to be able to bring them down here.

It’s at this moment that he realizes he likes Newt.

 

When Newt heads home, it’s late and Graves, surprisingly, feels relaxed enough to fall asleep, despite not having heard from Mabel.  When he wakes in the morning he eagerly awaits Mabel’s letter but refuses to fret or sit around doing nothing.  He debates doing some more cleaning, but decides against it.  He ignores the stain as he comes down the stairs.

He's pouring over the newspaper and sipping a cup of coffee when a pigeon taps at the kitchen window.  He’s not so surprised to see a letter from Arlene’s mother.

What does surprise him is finding not one letter inside the envelope, but two.  He opens the one with his name written on it in Mabel’s small script first.  Tucked neatly in between the parchment folds, a picture slides out.  It has his breathing stuttering in his throat as he picks up the picture of his son desperately trying to wrangle a Kneazle kitten into sitting still long enough to take a picture.  Though the little creature does not want to sit still, it seems to like Theodore enough, and his son is unable to keep his grin in check, despite the Kneazle not doing what he wants.  He doesn’t know how long he sits there, just staring at the moving face of his son.  The boy is saying something, and the longer he stares the more he can make out the words:

“She’s perfect, I love her.”

It takes him a while to remember that there are actual words to the letters sent to him and he quickly reads the one in his hands.  It’s shorter than normal, simply telling him that she isn’t sure about keeping, what can be, a dangerous creature as a pet.  But she read all the notes Mr. Scamander had sent along with it and she instantly understood why he chose the cat like beast for Theodore.  The boy loves his pet, she tells him, and she just had to get a picture.  There were plenty more, but this is the only one that she managed to get them to stay in frame long enough to make for a good one.  She could go on about the party, if she wanted, but she figured he’d like to hear it all from Theodore.  This has him nearly tearing the other sheet of paper in his hurry to open it.

The writing is a little sloppy, as his son hates writing and thinks it’s boring and fought the entire time Graves had tried to teach him.  But it’s the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.  Its been nearly a year since he’s heard from or seen his children.  And now he has a photo and a letter from his son.  It’s nearly too much at once.  He forces the emotions back and follows his son’s words with his fingertips.

Theodore meticulously tells him all about the party.  Uncle Oliver’s kids are a bit sad but they were happy to see Everett and Theodore.  His other friends were super happy to see Theodore too, and they told him how much they all had missed him.  He got some really nifty gifts but none of them compared to Graves’ gift.  Theodore nearly waxed poetry, as well as a seven-year-old can, over his pet.  She was a silvery grey color with bright yellow eyes and the puff on her tail was extremely soft.  She was super curious and spent all day exploring the house before deciding it was a good house and standing sentry in the doorway of whatever room Theodore was in.  She had taken to Theodore about as quickly as he had taken to her and loved being scratched along her jaw.  He wasn’t quite sure what to name her yet, and had started calling her with a simple “hey, you” whenever he needed her.  The letter ends with Theodore thanking him for the bestest present ever and asking if it’s alright that he start sending letters to Graves.

There’s a simple “love you” at the bottom.

He reads the letter practically every hour for the rest of the day.  It and the picture never leave his side.

 

The next morning, before heading into work he buys a small picture frame, big enough for the picture to just barely fit inside and charms it to protect the photo from any sort of damage.  An explosion would be the only way to even put a scratch on it.  The photo and the letter go into the inside pocket of his vest, and his team catch glimpses of him smiling at a small photo several times throughout the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _A/N: So, in order to keep the opening chapter comments small so you can get right into reading the chapters, I'll be doing my comments down here. Also, this'll allow me to not spoil the chapter for you guys before you even read it, ha! Or you know, if you don't want to read this and continue on the story, you can. I understand both, no worries! Thanks again for reading and I hope you enjoyed the start of this fic._   
>  _As I was coming up for ideas for this continuation story, I had some for Newt and Graves' relationship, but as I was looking over my ideas and trying to write some out, I realized that there were some things I needed to loosen up before I could do that. That being, Graves wasn't necessarily on speaking terms with his children, and there were some other hang ups he would have with the way I wrote his story in PYPA. You know, stuff that you can't just sweep under the rug and continue writing relationship stuff for. Which was fine because I had some ideas for his children that I kind of wanted to write. Because Papa!Graves is a wonderful image and I like writing about it. So, it worked out really. To give you guys an idea of how time lines up here, I'll give you a rough idea of the timeline I wrote up/why I put certain things where:_   
>  _So, I went with the whole "Graves was being impersonated for five months" thing back in PYPA, because everyone seems to agree on either 3 or 5 months, both of which sound plausible to me. I liked five better because I'm horrible and wanted to have him imprisoned for longer. So, that puts him being imprisoned in July of 1926 and of course found in December of 1926. He's back to work by mid-January of 1927, and I decided very meticulously (i.e. I used a random number generator) to decide that he met Newt for the first time in March of 1927. The reason the fic doesn't start there, is because I personally felt that Newt probably didn't fit as much into Graves life to start with. I didn't want to just have them spending time right off the bat together because I didn't want to rush it, but at the same time I really wanted to get to Graves mending his relationship with his children before I really got into Newt and Graves' relationship. So, it starts in June because that's kind of the turning point, both for Graves mending his relationship with his children, and for Newt and Graves' friendship. Plus, I couldn't really think of anything to write about for their relationship in those first couple months of being friends, so I started it here._   
>  _I used a random number generator to figure out most of the dates, actually. Though I occasionally did pick months and/or days for the added effect. For example, Theodore's birthday. I knew in order to get the "5 months" parameter, the Graves' family had to be held captive starting in July at the latest, and I wanted Theodore's birthday to be very close, but before the actual date. So I used a random generator to give me the day they were captured, and then picked the date six days before to get Theodore's birthday._   
>  _Now to Theodore. I spent some time trying to figure out the genders/sexes of the children, but in the end I went with my original instinct. Which was that Graves' eldest was a girl, and youngest was a boy. As for his name, again I wanted to name him after one of the Grail Knights, because I like the idea that someone had that the Graves family are named after Knights of the Round Table. I didn't want to do a traditional one though, and then I realized that if I didn't do a traditional one I would be having that same issue I almost had with Gwen. I didn't want the kid to be one of **those** OCs. You know which ones I'm talking about. Anyway. So like I did with Arlene and every OC so far, I used a list of common names from the 1920's and picked it at random. But then as I was writing this chapter, I realized I liked that name for the eldest child, so I flicked through the list again and settled on Theodore. Mostly because it's equally a cute name for a child as well as just a nice name for an older kid too. I wanted to put some thought into it, as Arlene and Graves would have. In my head though, his middle name is Gawain, to keep up the Round Table tradition._   
>  _That's it for notes on this chapter. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and if you read through all of my ramble, I hope you found the information enlightening? Or something? Anyway, thanks again and I'll see you next chapter._


	2. A Moment is All we Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Graves wasn't the only one changed by Grindelwald's deception. Sometimes, it's easier to heal together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!  
> This chapter's title comes from a song by one of my favorite artists: Linkin Park. I know that they aren't very popular, but I really love all (a vast majority) of their work, and they really care about their music and trying different sounds. I'm not going to pressure anybody into listening to them, but I really enjoy their work.  
> It comes from the title track of their newest album, One More Light ([link here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3kaUvGSLMew)). I got the feeling from the song itself, but I did read up somewhere that the song is about their grief over losing a close friend. If you don't listen to the song, definitely look up the lyrics.  
> Title is specifically from the chorus of the song:  
> If they say  
> Who cares if one more light goes out?  
> In a sky of a million stars  
> It flickers, flickers  
> Who cares when someone's time runs out?  
> If a moment is all we are  
> We're quicker, quicker  
> Who cares if one more light goes out?  
> Well I do

The good mood lasts until Thursday.

He wakes up feeling fine, not as good as the day before but not nearly as bad as he has on other days.  He goes through his work shift like usual and everything is so normal that he doesn't even realize how it’s all slowly building up in his gut until three in the afternoon.

Two hours, a year ago, Graves had pulled on his overcoat, said goodbye to his team, and headed home.

Two hours and five minutes, a year ago, Graves came home to Grindelwald lounging about his living room.

Three hours, a year ago, Oliver Rosental was felled on the threshold of Graves’ home.

He doesn't want to leave.  He knows that it's a new house, that his people are on high alert to his moods now, even though he hides them so well.  He knows, instinctively, that Grindelwald is intelligent enough not to strike again, at least not on the same day.  Plus, Grindelwald had no reason to come after him again.

He can feel every minute thrum by, sending a jolt through him with every single one.  It feels suspiciously like the start of a panic attack.  He bites down on his tongue and glares at his paperwork, determined that there is nothing for him to be panicking over.

When five o'clock ticks off from his desk clock, Graves ignores it and continues to work.  At five-oh-five, he's still not looking at his clock, though his team is starting to shuffle uncomfortably outside.  He's never been late home, despite everything, despite the fact that there is no one for him to go home to.  He's a rigid man, with a rigid schedule, and the rigidity of the schedule is usually a comfort.  Right now, it feels like a tight constricting band around his chest.

Before the minute hand obscures the ten, Newt comes bursting in.  He's shuffling, awkwardly shy, as he rambles about something.  Graves has never really seen the man so nervous before, but he knows that he must be that way on occasion because it’s what his team says all the time.  It’s odd, seeing the normally confident, if a little uncomfortable with eye contact, man that Graves has come to know acting so skittish.  It makes sense, when he explains the Niffler has escaped again and this time with the Madam President's gold Horned Serpent brooch.  Graves jumps at the chance for a distraction.

The next three hours are spent looking in nearly every nook and cranny of the MACUSA building before Graves, irritated, lays out a trail of gold coins leading to a trap.  The Niffler is smart enough to know it's a trap, but his need to pick up anything shiny outweighs its need to continue causing trouble.  Once he has the Niffler in hand, it isn't hard to bribe it into giving back the brooch.  Half the coins and one of his silver cufflinks does it.  Though the creature offers to buy the other cufflink with the other half of the coins.  Not wanting to break up the set he gives the Niffler the other cuff link and lets it keep the coins.  It's an awkward moment with the Madam President as he attempts to give her the brooch with some form of decorum but fails miserably.  Apparently the Niffler now thinks Graves is his best friend and is showing him exactly that by rubbing its furry face against Graves’ cheek, little arms wrapped as best as they can around his head, and the occasional lick of a very wet tongue.  He is grateful that the Madam President doesn’t say anything, but the wobble of her lip tells him she is desperately trying to keep her face from slipping from its normally refined expression.  He ignores the look.  He also ignores the sound of suppressed snickering that follows him as he closes the door to her office behind him.  Newt gives Graves a shy and embarrassed smile when he meets him at the end of the hall and Graves thinks that maybe it isn’t all too bad.  He is still glad that the place is nearly empty and that the only other person to see him is Red when they use the elevator to get to the ground floor.  The house elf makes a pointed comment about Graves needing a shave right before they step off the elevator and Newt manages to hold it together until they reach the door before he too has fallen into a fit of giggles.  Its been awhile since Graves has felt his cheeks warm like this.

Graves invites Newt back to the townhouse for dinner, and Newt tries to convince him that this should all be the other way around.  After all, Graves helped Newt find the Niffler, Newt really owes  _ him _ dinner.  Graves simply points out there is no way, in all that is good and holy, that he is going to go to some public venue with a Niffler  _ plastered  _ to his face.  Newt concedes to his point.

Before he starts preparing dinner, after Newt spent some time feeding the animals in his case, Graves finally removes the Niffler and hands the critter over to Newt.

“That was clever, by the way, unleashing the Niffler like that.”  He calmly says as the younger man takes the Niffler from him.  Newt has the decency to look vaguely embarrassed at being caught, but he simply shrugs it off in the end.

“Tina told me, the whole Department was worried about you.  It was the only thing I could think of… I hadn’t planned for him to take the President’s brooch, though, that was all him.”  Newt rushes the last part out, as if that somehow makes it all better.  Graves doesn’t admit that it doesn't.  No, the fact that Newt was willing to face the possible wrath of MACUSA’s fearsome President, just to help Graves is.  It’s no wonder why Graves is starting to see that being Newt’s friend isn’t so bad.

Once more, Newt doesn’t leave until late, and by the time he does Graves barely has the energy to remove his outer layers before collapsing in his bed, shirt only half unbuttoned and suspenders still in place.

 

The next morning, and subsequent day, is a little more normal.  Things are still tense, and there is the feeling like his skin is too tight on his body, but it’s much easier to distract himself with all the paperwork still scattered about his desk then the day before.  At five, Graves is more willing to leave, though no less unsettled by it.  Mostly because, while the day before had been a bad day for him, he knows that he isn’t the only one that is affected.  The rest of the Department says their goodbyes as he walks past their desks and he nods his head in acknowledgement with a short ‘enjoy the weekend’ as he goes.  Evidence lock up is in the basement, several floors underground, and this is around the time that desk duty changes hands.  Ina looks surprised to see him as she looks up from signing over the desk to the other lock up workers.  They leave MACUSA together and they find themselves wandering Central Park for an hour or so in complete silence.  When they finally stop at a bench, Ina is spinning her wedding ring around her finger idly.

“Sometimes…” she starts, quiet and faraway.  “Sometimes I wake up in the morning, expecting to find him pulling off his Auror’s coat and begging for me to give him another chance.  I like to think I would have beat him over the head with his own wand, but would have taken him back.  And then we’d go into work and find that Arlene was home and everything could just… go back.”  Graves doesn’t say anything.  He has a very different experience than those who were told Grindelwald’s lies.  But he understands the feeling.  It would have been easier if the lie Grindelwald had told had been the truth.  “But then I get up to an empty bed, and I see the look in my children’s eyes and I just…”  She bites her tongue, cutting off whatever she was going to say.  They fall silent again, for a time, before Ina Rosental speaks up again and finally looks at him.  “The children ask about you, they want to know when ‘Uncle Percival’ will come by.  They miss you, sometimes almost as much as they miss… their father.”  She looks away again and Graves finally gives into the instinct that has been bubbling in him since she started speaking.  He reaches up and places his hand, gently, over the back of her neck.  She is still and quiet and doesn’t react for a moment, before she slowly buries her face in the collar of his shirt.  She doesn’t cry, and neither does he, but they spend a long time there, just sitting, and breathing in silence.

 

The days slide on by, with Graves falling back into his routine and ignoring anything that deviates him from it.  Though it's a little hard with Newt gone, again.  Not long after the Niffler incident Newt had disappeared on another one of his unplanned trips, and without any word since he left.  Goldstein was about ready to send a hunting party out.

“He’s an adult, Goldstein, he can take care of himself.”  Graves had told her one evening as she angrily shuffled through reports of dangerous occurrences in the location that they believe Newt had run off to.  She gives him a look that tells him that his flimsy attempt to reassure her has failed.  “We’ll give him a couple more days.”  He’d conceded and she’d merely grumbled before getting up to leave for the day.

Aside from feeling concerned, and not at all worried, Graves is able to continue on like normal.  As before, Graves sends a letter every day to his children, the difference now being that Theodore responds whenever he remembers, such is usually every couple of days.  His son mostly talks about his Kneazle, which still doesn’t have a name, though Theodore complains that Everett has shortened the phrase “hey, you” to “Hugh,” which he hates.  His eldest still hasn’t spoken to him, though Theodore does confess in his latest letter that she has started reading the letters Graves sends.  Graves will take whatever he can get.

He doesn't have much contact with others, aside from those at work and Gwen.  So, it’s a surprise, then, when he receives a letter from neither Mabel or his children, but from a name he doesn’t recognize.  He spends an inordinate amount of time casting spell after spell over it to make sure it isn’t going to blow up in his face, literally or figuratively.  When each one comes up negative he finally opens it.  The new owners of his old home have settled nicely and they thank Graves for being so kind as to leave so many nice furnishings to them.  In truth, he’d left most of the old furniture because, while his blood had been magically scoured from every surface, he could still see glimpses of it in every grain of wood and no amount of scrubbing the furniture she’d picked out got rid of the stench of death left by the absence of his wife.  They don’t have much to say, except that they were cleaning up a bit and they found this, and they thought, perhaps, Graves might be missing it.

It’s a simple gold wedding band, scratched and dull, but still exactly as Graves remembers it over a year ago.  He doesn’t remember it falling off, but then again, he had other things he was paying attention to at the time.  It’s not very heavy, and he knows it wasn’t very expensive.  Most of the money was put to its partner.  There is a sloppy inscription on the inside.

 

When he reaches MACUSA the next day, he takes an immediate detour down to evidence lockup.  At his approach, Ina’s coworker politely excuses himself to do some work, and the two are left alone.  She looks to him and gives him a professional smile.

“What a surprise, Director.  Do you have something for us to catalogue today?”  He shakes his head and places the simple gold band on the desk in front of her.  The smile is there for a few seconds, dangling on her face as if it’s hanging there by thin wires.  It collapses as fast as it was put there and she’s picking up the band and holding it cupped in both hands like she’s lifting something much bigger and far more fragile than a ring.  She’s crying, a broken quiet sobbing, for the first time since she had seen Graves in the medical ward all those months ago and he’d told her exactly what had happened to her husband.  She clutches it to her chest and Graves breaks protocol, for the first time he doesn't care, and easily slides over the top of the desk pulling her up from her chair and squeezing her close to his chest.

The fabric at his shoulder is soaked by the time he finally heads up to his office, a full half hour late to work, but no one calls him out on it, and no one questions why Ina goes home early.

  
  


_ When Oliver had set the small box on the bar top in front of them, Percival had thought to himself “finally.”  Opening the box to inspect the small gold bands inside, Percival nodded his approval.  The matching set was relatively simple, though the plain wedding band that would eventually be Oliver’s was obviously of cheaper quality.  The other was much nicer, with a large flat diamond in the center and small needle top diamonds surrounding it, like a sparkling flower.  When Percival cautiously pulled them from the velvet cushion, he could feel the magic that was laced between the settings of each diamond, and interwoven into the gold itself.  Protective charms and deflecting hexes that would protect the wearer from most harms.  The simple golden band had only the smallest traces of magic, the kind that kept the ring itself from being damaged by magic.  On the inner curve of both, an inscription was etched in, sloppy and in no way professional.  Obviously done with Oliver’s own magic.  He placed them back in the box and looked to his friend.  Oliver was fiddling with his glass, for the first time in many, many years, he looked nervous, unsure. _

_ “You’re an idiot.”  Percival told him.  For a moment, his friend looked angry and hurt, but then resigned as if he should have known better.  “You’re an idiot if you think she’d ever tell you no.”  Oliver laughs, relieved, into his glass. _

  
  


Surprisingly, this provides a closure that neither of them realized they’d needed.  Oddly, better than finding Rosental’s body, and somehow even more so than his actual burial.  A soft weight lifts from his ribs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _A/N: Hey again everyone, hope you enjoyed this chapter as well. It's probably the shortest of the six chapters, but whatever. Originally this chapter and the third chapter were together, but when I was editing this fic I 1- didn't like how long the chapter was and 2- it seemed kind of weird to have this emotional chapter about Graves' dealing with his anxiety over the anniversary of his imprisonment (though he'd never admit it was anxiety) and getting closure over Rosental's death and then just jump into some stuff about Newt and Graves relationship. It kind of took away from the emotions for me, so I rearranged it a little bit, and separated it so most of the Newt stuff is it's own chapter now, and all of the stuff about Rosental is all together. Also, this allowed me to give Graves some much needed healing that will be necessary for the next chapter to work better._   
>  _As a rule I wanted to keep the number of important OCs relatively small, or as small as I can when I'm writing a fabricated background for a character. But I couldn't really write a chapter about closure over Rosental's death without including his wife, of course. I mentioned her in PYPA and it wouldn't make sense to leave her out of this. She doesn't really show up in any other chapters, I mention her maybe once after this chapter, mostly because she's important because of her connection to Rosental, and Graves was close to her because of that, but the focus of the fic was: mending his relationship with his children, giving him closure over what happened to him, and furthering his relationship with Newt. She's important for him receiving some closure over what happened but beyond that she wasn't all that necessary for the plot. Maybe I'll bring her in more if I decide to do a third installment of this series, and if you guys want to see more of the OCs, but otherwise I wanted to keep OC involvement at a minimum because I don't want to detract from the point of this fic._   
>  _I went through a lot of names trying to settle on Ina, I had one that I liked and was using and it wasn't until I was working on chapter 5 that I realized the name was waaaaay too close to the name Leta, and I didn't want any confusion. So I picked Ina. Again, she doesn't really show up again later, but I kind of imagined her as this Latina who worked in evidence lock up because she enjoys diffusing dangerous items, and she met this dork of a red head and the two ended up getting married. I think their kids would be super cute. I mentioned them in the first chapter, and forgot to add that into the comment at the bottom. Oliver and Ina had three children together, two girls and a boy. I decided on their genders and which order via coin toss, so their eldest and youngest are girls, and their middle child is a boy. Why I picked three for the number of kids they'd have? *shrugs* Is this even important to the story's plot or should you care? *shrugs* Did I have to describe how Graves looked when he passed out on the bed? *shrugs* It really isn't. I just spent a lot of time thinking about this story and I enjoy thinking about the particulars of things. Such as the background of characters who aren't main characters. I RP with my bff, and sometimes we go off on strange side stories just following the lives of people in the background. I don't know, it makes the stories feel more real? But whatever. (As for Graves, I had the image of him unbuttoned but still almost entirely clothed, but this installment of the series isn't going to have any sex so this is the closest I can get right now, ok? I enjoyed the image, and I wanted everyone to enjoy the image with me. Even if this might not have been the best chapter for that, ha!)_   
>  _For the flashback scene between Graves and Rosental I had a different scene in mind and wanted to put in here, wrote it out and everything. I cut it though, because I have very deliberately avoided having Rosental and Arlene interact in any of the flashbacks and in the original idea they were both in the flashback. I've mostly avoided their interacting because I also had a completely different idea of how to start this whole story. But the original way I wanted to start it wouldn't have worked with what I was doing. At some point I'm thinking of posting a side story that has all my ideas that I view as having happened in this verse, but couldn't quite fit into the story. The inscription on the inside of the Rosental's wedding rings would be one of those short stories as well. If that's something people are interested in I'll probably post them at some point._   
>  _That's it for this chapter, hope everyone enjoyed, and I'll see you next chapter._


	3. We Only Pass This Way but Once

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lessons in friendship, and why help is important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title comes from the song Sad Captains by Elbow. I heard this song a couple times at work and didn't really like it. But after hearing it some more and looking up the lyrics it kind of grew on me. It doesn't necessarily fit the fic or characters, but I enjoyed it and so I used it. You can listen to it ([link here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ipaDJq7XCSM)), and tell me what you think.  
> Title comes from the chorus:  
> Another sunrise with my sad captains  
> With who I choose to lose my mind  
> And if it's so we only pass this way but once  
> What a perfect waste of time

Not long after returning Rosental’s ring, Newt had come bursting into the MLE Department positively beaming over whatever escapade he’d just run, and Graves is hard pressed to ruin it.  But he does anyway.  Newt seems confused as to why Graves, and Goldstein, have gone from looking relieved and happy to see him, to completely exasperated and partly frustrated.  Graves can’t help but sigh, and merely asks that Newt send some sort of word when he runs off on future adventures.  Just to let them know that Newt is still alive.  This seems to startle the younger man, and for a moment he looks a little lost.  Like it had never occurred to him to inform someone of where he was at, or how dangerous it was _not_ to inform someone.

“I’ve never had anyone who… well, cared.”  Newt mumbles to his shoes.

“Of course we care-”

"-We’re friends, aren’t we?”  The two say at the same time, and neither acknowledges the strange moment, instead looking straight at Newt.

“I- that is- yes, of course we’re friends!”  Newt’s smile is back, and this time it’s nearly blinding, as he ducks his head sheepishly.  The two MACUSA officials sigh, both resigning themselves to the fact that Newt may be brilliant, but even brilliant people can be idiots.

After Newt has said hello to everyone in the department, and things are a little more settled, Graves invites Newt to lunch.  It’s the first time he’s initiated this part of their friendship, it’s usually Newt who asks or drags him off.  He can tell it’s the right thing to do, and that it really drives home what he and Goldstein had said earlier, because Newt gives him a look of hope and he graciously accepts the invitation.

 

Things are good for another month as Graves navigates his strange friendship with Newt.  They don’t have a lot in common.  In fact, they have very little.  But both are loyal and want nothing more than to protect others.  So really, they have enough in common.

Despite having been inside the case, Newt is hesitant to tell him about his creatures or his adventures.  Partly because while Graves knows there were illegal creatures inside the case (though he never saw the more dangerous ones) and that Newt got up to a lot of illegal acts while out in the world, there was a difference between knowing and actually _knowing_.  To alleviate his worries, Graves hesitantly told the younger man about some of Arlene’s many antics in school and borderline illegal actions in MACUSA.

  


_The Great War in Europe had been underway for only about a year, when whisperings that the United States would have no choice but to join in eventually started circling about.  The No-Maj’s tried to ignore it all, thinking that there was some way they could stay out of it.  But the magical community knew better.  Something of this scale and magnitude?  America would have to join in eventually.  Though they were just as insistent as the rest of the magical community that they shouldn't get involved.  Arlene was one of the few people who loudly and frequently proclaimed they should prepare for the inevitability and they should be just as willing to fight as the No-Majs.  No one listened, in small part because everyone figured that when America did join the war no wizard or witch would participate, and if they did they were prepared enough for anything a No-Maj could throw at them.  But mostly because Arlene worked in No-Maj Land.  An unofficial nickname.  She was one of the few people that worked in the Study and Understanding of No-Maj Technology and Culture department.  No one put much stock in them, and there was talk every year of possibly just axing the department, as it was seen as a drain on funds.  Arlene didn’t care though, loving everything about her job, and she continued to insist they be allowed to study No-Maj weapons to be able to protect against them.  Everyone said she was just in grief, over the loss of her brother to one of these No-Maj weapons, and that she was letting it get to her.  If, hypothetically speaking, they did join the war, they would be ready for an attack.  Her brother had been surprised._

_To show how wrong they were, Arlene dropped a grenade into the central hall of MACUSA and shielded the blast with magic.  While no one was hurt, everyone was shocked to discover that the shield had easily cracked against the explosion, and shrapnel had managed to punch holes in some parts even though Arlene had been completely expecting what was going to happen._

_She was fired on the spot, of course.  But everyone talked about the incident non-stop and it was seen as an embarrassment towards Percival’s reputation.  Everyone said that if he wasn’t already Deputy Director he would have never gotten the position after that incident._

 

_(It's not important to the story that he's telling Newt, so Percival doesn't mention that her recklessness in that particular incident was the cause for one of their few real fights.  Not because he didn't think she was right, and not because he thought her or her actions to be an embarrassment, but that her desire to be heard had endangered others.  While she had felt that Percival hadn't supported her the way he should have.  Before the incident, she'd loudly proclaim the need to study No-Maj weapons, and looked to Percival for back up, he'd merely nodded in reassurance.  After she'd pulled the pin, she had looked to Percival for reassurance, he'd merely stared at her wide eyed and silent like everyone else._

_“Then you should have done something, helped me change it.”  She had angrily told him after the third time they'd argued loud enough to get stern looks from the neighbors the next day.  They both conceded to each other's point after that.  Percival should have supported her, and not in the silent and stoic way of her husband, but in the vocal and commanding way of Deputy Director.  While Arlene shouldn't have dropped a grenade in the middle of MACUSA.)_

 

_When America did join the war and MACUSA was finding more and more wizards and witches being sent home injured or dead, a new sub-department was formed.  Protection Against No-Maj Arsenal.  When they asked Arlene to come back to work in the department she spent a whole week banging about the house, grumbling under her breath that she deserved to head the whole thing as it had been her idea from the start.  Despite all of Percival’s attempts to convince MACUSA to offer her a better position, they held fast.  By the next week, her anger had died down and her desire to help and protect had won out.  She had accepted the position._

 

 

Once Newt was reassured that any story he told Graves would not faze him, the magizoologist was more than happy to recount most of his expeditions.  Though to say they didn’t faze him was a lie.  There were still the times that he cringed at the blatant disrespect for the law.  Though, never in the face of Newt’s actions.  Everything Newt did, inside or outside the law, was a necessary action in Graves’ opinion.  It was the poachers and the breeders, the men and women who took these animals and only saw them as useful, saw them for the one small part of them that was “worth” something.  Maybe if he’d met Newt before everything, he would have frowned disapprovingly at Newt’s actions, would have questioned his sanity while still hating the actions of these abusers.  But he felt a sharp sense of sympathy towards the creatures Newt saved when he remembered Grindelwald’s face frowning at him, of his one and only use to the man.

They start spending more time together, sharing stories, and Graves feels himself relaxing further with the man.  Where normally he would tense in the face of someone drawing close, Graves finds himself leaning in.

Newt has a lot to say about a lot of things, speaking his mind about whatever he feels is important, not caring how it will come off or who he might upset with his opinions.  There are several times where he gave a scathing remark about a law, usually the one against association with No-Majs or the beast laws, and then his eyes would skitter up to look into Graves’ and there is such a level of determination and defiance that Graves finds himself floundering for a moment.  Floundering because he knows he should be responding that “the law is the law” and shut down Newt’s complaints, but he cares about what Newt thinks and he is starting to remember that sometimes the law can hurt where it’s supposed to help.  Finally, after weeks of hearing this, instead of chastising Newt as he once would have, or staying silent as he had been he tells him: “then do something about it, help me change it.”  This surprises Newt, but Graves doesn’t break eye contact, and for once neither does Newt.

One day over lunch, not long after, Newt tells Graves he figured out how he wants to cash in a debt that MACUSA owes him.

When Graves goes with him to the President’s office, he expects the look on her face.  The frown of disapproval and glimmer of confusion in her eyes, the look of surprise when Graves proclaimed he would back Newt and his decision.

“Do you understand what exactly you are asking, Director Graves?”  She is calm, tilting her head so she looks slightly down at him, despite being at relatively the same height, giving him a searching look.  He does.  He knows exactly what he is asking and exactly what this could mean if things go horribly wrong.  She looks to Newt, and he holds her eyes long enough to show her he is serious, before he looks away.

When they leave the office, Newt has a new job, title, and sub-department.  Head of Beast Containment and Relocation, and a promise from the President herself to start reworking the beast ownership laws and the treatment of beasts by MACUSA.  The younger man is watching Graves closely as they walk.  It’s a new feeling, as Newt only looks this closely at people when there is a mystery he wishes to solve.  Usually the person knows something that will help solve the mystery, rarely is it the person themselves that is the mystery.  Finally, they reach the junction that leads to the investigative branch, and the hall that will lead Newt to his new office.

“You have questions.”  Graves says, turning so they are facing each other.

“No, not- just one… why?  Why risk it?”  He won’t look Graves in the eye, instead looking at the collar pins he’s wearing.

“It’s what friends do… is it not?”  Newt looks him in the eye then, that same lost look as before.  “You went out of your way to help me, on two separate occasions.  You needed help.  This is me returning the favor.”  Newt gives a sheepish grin, lowering his head.

“I don’t think that’s how friendship works…”  Newt admits.  “But I’ve never really had any, so you shouldn’t quote me on that.”

“No, that’s not how friendship works.”  He concedes with a tiny, wry, smile.  “But helping each other and standing up for what’s right… that _is_ how friendship works.”  Newt looks at him from between his bangs, that hopeful expression is there once more, though something else is there just about the edges that Graves recognizes.  He pretends he doesn't.  

 

They start working like this.  Newt coming to Graves when he needs something, and Graves to Newt.  The young man isn’t shy about asking for help, though he does stumble about his words and stutter a bit more, unused to asking for it as he’s never really had people who have wanted to help him before.  Graves has a much harder time of it, having always done things on his own and always had people there who have instinctively known when he needs it.  Arlene and Oliver had each been in his life for over twenty-five years.  They knew him, were so attuned to him.  It was strange having someone who cared about him that he had to ask something from.  It should concern him that someone he has really just met and is still learning who they are seems to know exactly what to do to help him, but he isn't going to start questioning it.  Helping those that no one else knows how seems to be a talent of Newt's, and Graves could use the help.  Still, he was lucky he had his department looking out for him as most the time when they sensed even the smallest issue, Newt was being called.  Usually, Auror Goldstein was the one on top of his moods.  She’d been the one to mention his son’s birthday and the date of Rosental’s death to Newt.  Far more observant than most people gave her credit for.

“Newt- I mean, Mr. Scamander isn’t the only one who cares about your wellbeing, Mr. Graves, sir.”  Goldstein had stumbled when he brought her into his office to confront her about both incidents.  Despite how awkward her speech was, she looked unrepentant and that’s all Graves really needed to see.

“Pack up your desk, Ms. Goldstein.”  She deflates at this, and he smirks at her as he leans back in his chair.  “And please move to your new one.  Those kind of observational skills, your compassion, and your desire to protect, both the magical community and the No-Maj population, are the exact things I look for in a Senior Auror.  Congratulations, Ms. Goldstein, please have your possessions moved over by lunch.”  She gapes at him, before snapping at attention and thanking him profusely.  Oliver… he’d been someone special to Graves, and keeping the desk clear and untouched ever since the President had rearranged his department back to its old people and numbers, had been a way for Graves to pay tribute to his friend.  But the Senior Auror’s position had gone empty for too long.  Rosental would have been happy to see it filled by someone like Goldstein.  She leaves the office at a calm, collected pace, but when she steps further into the bullpen, he can see her practically jump and shout as she races to her desk.  The department is swallowed by a roar of cheers from her fellow Aurors as Deputy Director Finley taps her wand against the blank placard on the empty desk and changes it to say: Senior Auror Porpentina Goldstein.

 

It's Graves turn to help Newt out, when not long after the start of his new department there are other department heads that complain behind closed doors and in hushed whispers at interdepartmental meetings.  Newt looks more and more uncomfortable with the situation and it’s so strange seeing.  He’s used to Newt in one on one conversations, but it’s obvious how uncomfortable he is with crowds and with so many people with an obvious disdain for what he does.  A lot of them remember the meeting, that Graves was not a part of, where Newt was arrested under the belief that one of his beasts had killed a No-Maj.  There are some that still think Newt should be arrested for simply having the beasts in question.  Before it all, Graves would have felt pity for someone like Newt, but would have told him he obviously wasn’t cut out for bureaucracy.  Now he understands exactly how Newt feels.  He has a hard time being in groups, when before he flourished.  He finds it difficult standing and speaking before people who most likely question his integrity and ability behind his back, when before he would have felt no need to defend his title.  He still gives off the same confidence and near arrogance he once had but it no longer feels as natural.

It’s one meeting in particular, the one where Newt is introducing the new beast laws that the Madam President allowed him to draft, when the Beast Capture and Elimination unit head, Bertram Kidd, complains that such a department and laws have no use in MACUSA.  The methods they have been using for decades work, why change them now over the whim of some Hogwarts’ reject?  Newt is losing ground quickly and while what he is saying is correct and the logic is sound, no one is listening.  Newt looks to the head of the Body for Protection of Magical Species, which his department is a branch of, but she looks bored and isn’t paying attention either.  With the elimination laws in effect, she hadn’t really had much work and had allowed Kidd to take a lot of power, despite it being a sub-department of her own.  Graves sees Newt looking overwhelmed and desperately trying to gain control of the situation with no one to help him.  It's what Graves can only imagine his face must have looked like when his case had been ripped from his fingers by Grindelwald wearing Graves’ skin.  He imagines cracked magical barriers, of shrapnel punched holes, and Arlene standing with a grenade pin in her hand and looking to Graves for reassurance.

Standing, he readjusts his jacket and calmly moves to stand beside Newt.  His hand feels oddly heavy over Newt’s shoulder and Newt looks oddly like he might collapse under the weight of it.

“The Department of Magical Law Enforcement will stand behind and uphold these new laws.  Any who are found breaking or going against them will answer to _me_ .”  It sent a hush through the room.  He let his gaze move to Kidd, and gave him a long scrutinizing look until the man ducked his head in discomfort.  “Need I remind you that Mr. Scamander has been given this title by Madam President Picquery herself and that any law he has written up, while verified by us, is given the President’s Seal of Approval.  Or should I remind you that Mr. Scamander and his beasts managed to accomplish in two days what you had not in weeks?  Or perhaps I will just remind you that had it not been for Mr. Scamander showing up when he did Grindelwald would have gotten _exactly_ what he wanted and the magical world would now be exposed to No-Maj’s the world over and there was nothing any of _you_ were capable of doing?”  He knew this wouldn’t end the comments or the whispering, that Newt’s own ability would have to do that.  But he could get it started, if only a little.  Plus, he wasn’t lying when he said anyone breaking a law would be answering to him.  He was looking forward to cuffing Kidd and any of his Auror’s when, not if, they stepped out of line.

It was worth it, when Newt gave him a grateful expression, and some of that confidence that he displayed when they were alone came about.  When Newt turned back and spoke once more it was with that same bold determination that he always had when they spoke alone.  Graves stayed next to Newt the rest of the meeting, his hand a reassuring presence on his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _A/N: Oh man, this chapter. Ok, so this one I struggled writing. Not because of what was going on between Newt and Graves, that was pretty easy. It's mostly my interpretation of Newt becoming a permanent fixture at MACUSA, as so many others have written before. What I struggled with was the flashback. I've tried to keep the flashbacks relatively simple, not too long because of that overall worry about characterizing OCs and doing it in a way that makes them seem real. I don't want them to be flat, but I also don't want to make them seem perfect. I probably spent the most time editing this flashback because it shows a lot more about Arlene's character then any other flashback. I wanted her to be human but not perfect. I had a couple different ideas of what she did but putting it together in a way that gave you insight into her character that also made her interesting but not you know, Mary-Sue._  
>  _Originally the part about them fighting I had left out. I thought to myself that, to me, I knew it was something they would have fought about, but as I was writing I realized that wasn't obvious and while it makes it a little weird to throw it into the flashback, I knew I had to. I wanted to get across that, like all relationships, theirs wasn't perfect. Yes, it was very good and they loved each other a lot, that doesn't mean they were a picture perfect family. They had their moments, and something like what Arlene did is something Graves would have struggled with. It also helped because it also explains a little why Graves is willing to stick up for Newt so soon into their friendship. Not just because they are friends, but Newt reminds Graves a little bit of Rosental and Arlene, and they were both important people he cared about. Graves feels he let them down, and Arlene even tells him he did at one point in their lives together. When he didn't stick up for her. This is him showing he's learned from it, but I included the fight in their flashback to show where he learned it from. Because I felt it was important and will be important later on if I decide to do a part three to this series. The way Graves is going to handle different parts of their relationship will be dependent on what he's learned from his previous relationships, i.e. what he learned from Arlene and being married to her._  
>  _The flashback itself I was careful to do a little bit of research, because while we know that wizards and witches did fight in WWI due to Newt's comments, the fact that Theseus is a war hero, and the Harry Potter wikia, they do explain on the wikia that they were actually told to stay out of the fighting. I didn't delve too much into research but I wanted to be relatively accurate. As for the department for studying No-Maj weapons, I figured that was totally something America would do. As with the British side of things, how they have a Muggle department that studies muggles and their things but how they are still largely misunderstood or confusing to wizards and witches, I feel it would be the same in America. It makes sense in my mind that their No-Maj study department would still be kind of considered stupid and they wouldn't really study anything that wasn't a weapon, but would study the weapons. Again, that seems like an entirely American thing they would do. I'm American, so I'm not generalizing, nor am I saying it's a bad thing. But for that time period especially._  
>  _Anyway, I hope Arlene doesn't come off as Sue, and I hope the flashback worked. I hope a lot of this worked actually._  
>  _I struggled with writing Newt to be honest. Mostly because, while I totally see him as that awkward adorable dork from the movie, I also feel like he is confident and knows what he is talking about and doing. I noticed that he isn't afraid to voice his opinions, whoever is listening be damned. Like when he tells Tina that the No-Maj laws are backward and stupid despite knowing she works for MACUSA. Or when he tells the entire magical congress they are stupid for thinking it was a beast that killed that No-Maj when it was clearly an Obscurus. Like he didn't care. If it's important he's going to say it. So I wanted to get across this confidence that he obviously has, and this kind of lack of care for people's opinions of his opinion while also keeping true to the fact that he is still awkward around people and adorable and a total dork._  
>  It's hard.  
>  _Well that's chapter three, hope you guys enjoyed it and I'll see you next chapter!_


	4. It Feels Like You've Come Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home is where the heart is, for Graves, thats his children. He's not coming home just yet, but it sure feels close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title for this chapter comes from the song Feels Like Coming Home by Jetta. I really like this song, again I'm not sure how well the whole thing fits with the series, but I feel like certain parts of the song do, and well I just enjoy it. Why not give it a listen? ([Link here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dvGeSb-c2cA).)  
> Title specifically comes from the chorus, as usual:  
> There in the dark, down in the valley  
> Under the motel neon sign  
> Room 105, the back of the alley  
> You're wearing my coat while sleeping  
> And it feels like I'm coming home

With all the rearrangements for Newt's new sub-department and the growing pains that come with new laws, Graves can almost forget the date until he receives another letter.  While he's at work his mail is redirected from his home directly to his desk.  While perhaps he should keep his personal life separate from his work, as he'd always strived to do in the past, he can't help but break that rule now.  He’s been breaking a lot of rules since he got back.  He knows if something truly worrisome cropped up with his children that Mabel or Orville would come personally.  But he likes being kept in the loop the moment things change, so if that means getting personal mail at the office then so be it.  Of course, he's never actually gotten any mail at this time, Mabel knows better.  So, even though Queenie Goldstein is still standing in his office, a small stack of other letters in her hands, Graves tears into the envelope.

It's an invitation to a party.  Specifically, a celebration of acceptance into Ilvermorny and an early birthday for his eldest.  Her eleventh birthday isn't until mid-September, but with her starting Ilvermorny on the first they are celebrating early.  It's being held at their home, starting at noon and they expect it to go until about suppertime.  He's sure there will be plenty of people there, her friends, most of Arlene’s extended family and a handful of Graves’ relatives.  In a small script at the bottom of the professional invitation his presence has been requested at around eight in the morning to join Everett and Orville in gathering her school supplies from Prospero Circle.  He almost doesn't recognize the handwriting as he hasn't seen it in so long.

The handwriting is his daughter's. 

 

 

_ Back when they'd first started getting serious about their relationship, Arlene had asked him about children.  Back then she'd been adamant that she was never having kids.  She'd looked ready for a fight, expecting him to say what everyone else had told her.  That she would want kids eventually, that she was just saying that now.  Percival had merely taken her face in his hands, kissed her hard on the lips, and told her the truth. _

_ “I want kids, I'd love kids.  But it's not a requirement for me to love you.  You have, and always will be, everything I need.”  From there they both agreed.  Arlene didn't want kids but Percival would never hold it against her.  Percival wanted kids but Arlene was never going to change her mind just because it was what he wanted.  If she ever decided that she did, it was her choice and if she never did that was hers too.  Her job, his job, they'd always been the most important thing to them aside from each other and they were both happy with that.  They didn't even get married until after Percival had gotten the Senior Auror position.  Children just weren't necessary. _

_ So, it was a surprise when she brought up the conversation again years after that first talk.  She didn't want kids, or at least she hadn't wanted kids, because it's what everyone had expected of her but it wasn't what she wanted.  And she'd changed her mind, not because it's what was expected of her or because she thought she had to.  She changed her mind because she wanted to.  She confesses that she hadn't really thought about it after she first brought it up, as she didn't care.  Until one day, she looked at him and it just hit her.  The thought of children had never appealed to her, but the thought of children with Percival?  That appealed to her very much.  And Percival hadn't lied when he said that having children wasn't a requirement for him loving her, and that if they never had children it wouldn't leave him feeling empty or as if he'd missed out on something.  He wanted them, but he knew that life wasn't all about children and continuing family names.  But the idea of getting to have a child, and with Arlene, still left him in a hazy dream for weeks. _

_ But weeks turned to months, and months to years.  Percival remembers his mother telling him it could be hard sometimes, it wasn't that instant thing that everyone would have you believe.  Everyone was different and not everyone got pregnant easy.  And even those that did weren't always so lucky.  She told him about how she'd had several miscarriages and stillbirths before Percival was born.  And several more before Gwen.  The thought frightened him, the thought of having a child only to lose it before it was born or even just as?  It’s why, when he made Deputy Director and they still hadn't managed, Percival told Arlene it was ok.  They didn't have to keep hurting themselves like this.  But Arlene was determined in all things, in succeeding at whatever she put her mind to and she wasn't about to let him give up either. _

_ When Arlene found out she was pregnant with their eldest, the first thing she'd done was run to Percival.  She was panicked because it had finally happened after all the hardship and stress, it was finally happening and she wasn't quite sure she believed it was real. _

 

 

Graves stared at the invitation for a very long time.  His daughter was requesting his presence and he would never deny her that, nor would he jinx it by asking why.  Though he was  _ very _ curious as to the answer.

“That's real sweet, Mr. Graves.  What are you gonna get her?”  Queenie startled him with her airy voice.  She was a lot closer then he remembered her being and she was looking down at the invitation with a sweet and innocent expression.  He'd done well to avoid the younger Goldstein since he'd come back.  His Occlumency was in a permanent state of hyper awareness, ever since his captivity.  He'd spent five months tortured and with a man desperate to rip the memories and thoughts from his head, but was unable to.  He knew Queenie couldn't help her power, and that she would be unable to see anything.  But the idea of anyone digging into his mind, intentionally or not, made him feel oddly cold.

“I'm not sure yet.”

 

It pains him that this was, once more, a dilemma.  These were his children.  This was his daughter.  There was a time when he knew what his children wanted, what they were excited about, what their hopes and dreams were.  Figuring out a present was as easy as breathing.  There were times when he knew his children so well he could bring them the exact thing they wanted before they even asked.  Now he was left wondering what his daughter even liked.

Without a doubt, he knew that whatever school supplies she desired he'd get her, everything of the highest quality.  No expense would be spared on his children.  Mabel and Orville were already doing so much for them, and just because they didn't live with him didn't mean he wasn't providing for them.  But school supplies, books and her uniform, the necessary sheaves of parchment and set of quills, that was so impersonal and already a given.  His first thought was that children could bring familiars to school.  He’d already gotten Theodore a pet, why not Everett?  It couldn’t be a Kneazle, though, his daughter would see that as him just recycling a gift idea.  She would want something special and different from her brother.

So, he had an idea, but a pet was so small and this was his daughter’s eleventh birthday.  He wanted it to be perfect.

That night he couldn’t sleep.  After hours of pacing, and scrubbing at the stain above the door, he sat on the third step of his staircase, staring at that ridiculously stubborn stain.

It occurred to him for the first time that he could just magic it clean.  Put a little bit of a spell into the cleaning solution he used, as he had the bloodstains in his old home, or the mold in the old dump he and Arlene once rented.  It would be so easy to do.  But he was determined to get it himself.  He swears its lightened after the last couple times he’s scrubbed at it.

He's back at it, but as he presses the stiff bristled brush to the wall feeling once more like a failure of a father, Graves is hit by a sudden, weak kneed feeling.  He misses Arlene, every day since the day Grindelwald murdered her in front of him.  He’s missed her so terribly, but for the first time since he lost her, he wishes she was  _ there _ standing next to him, taking his hands in hers, and telling him what to do.  He wants her there with him so bad that it physically  _ hurts _ .  His wrist throbs as he pushes too hard into the wall and causes his wrist to turn oddly.  Stepping down from the ladder he wraps his hand around his wrist and feels the stiff press of metal against his skin under his shirt sleeve.  Pulling his hand back he looks down at a bracelet that lays flat against his skin, cold and unyielding since Arlene died.

It’s then, that Graves decides what the rest of Everett’s present will be.

 

 

_ When it came to naming their child, they had agreed that they would name their first child after Arlene’s older brother.  Percival hadn't really known him all that well, despite being a year behind him at Ilvermorny, but he'd been a good man from what he knew.  Everett had been a journalist, always seeking out the truth and fighting for justice.  Really, they were doing the same thing just through different means.  When they found out he'd been killed by the No-Maj conflict in Europe, Arlene had been devastated.  She had been close with him and she loved him dearly, so the choice wasn't hard to agree to.  Once they reached the third trimester they had long debates over what they would name their first child, if instead of a boy, they had a girl.  Percival wanted to name her after his grandmother, Britomart Graves.  Arlene said they could so long as her middle name was Asphodel.  Percival almost fell for it, except Mabel told him what it meant. _

_ “Oh, very mature, Arlene.”  He had hissed at her making her dissolve into giggles.  It went like that for weeks, both wanting one name but the other shooting it down for some odd reason or another.  It finally boiled over when Percival tossed his hands in the air and shouted. _

_“Why not just name her Everett?”  They paused.  They thought.  Why not?  There was nothing saying they_ ** _couldn't_** _name their daughter after Arlene’s brother._

_ When Everett was born, Percival was right there and the moment Arlene gave her over to him, he knew, instantly. _

_Children weren't required for loving Arlene.  And he wouldn't have held it against her if she had never changed her mind.  But, there was something to be said about holding_ ** _their_** _daughter, safe, in his arms._

 

 

When he’d moved to the townhouse he had left most of the things packed up because it was easier than laying out reminders of his life from before.  Of course, Graves had unpacked his children’s bedrooms but he never opened those closed doors in case that dream was never realized.  But half of his study was obscured by boxes of the possessions he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of.  Most of it was Arlene’s, a few things were Graves family heirlooms, but anything worth keeping from his family he just sent away to the Graves manor to be looked after by his cousin.  It took him a while to remember which box he’d left Arlene’s jewelry box in, as he hadn’t labeled any of the containers for the same reason he hadn’t unpacked them.  But he came across the thing eventually.  There wasn’t much inside, as Arlene had never really cared for the glitzy, fancy things that Graves had tried to offer her in the shaky beginnings of their relationship.  None of that mattered though, he had a single goal in mind.

 

When he’d told Newt his plans for his daughter’s birthday present, the man looked utterly delighted.  Another chance to give a lovely animal a new home?  And with the new laws that MACUSA had finally passed it wouldn’t have to be something restrictive as a Kneazle.  He happened to have the perfect pet for Graves’ daughter.

Graves wonders if he should be worried about how enthusiastic Newt is, what kind of animal he’s going to try and hoist on Everett.

Graves wonders if he should be more worried about the fact that he knows he’ll be ok with whatever beast Newt has picked out.

 

The day of the party, Graves feels sick and he's worried he'll have to call it all off.  He barely slept the night before and now his stomach is staging a revolt.  Before he can talk himself out of doing the one thing he has wanted since being released from the medical wing, there is a knock at his door.  Finding Newt on the other side really shouldn’t surprise him, as the man has a knack for appearing when he’s needed.  He just hadn’t expected Newt to show up, nor did he expect that it was going to make him feel so relieved.  Newt always seems to know exactly what to do or say to help Graves out.   He puts up a weak, and unconvincing, fight as he steps aside to allow Newt in.  He needs to go meet his father-in-law and daughter in ten minutes.

“Oh, don’t mind me, I just need to pick some things up from the apothecary.  Just pretend I’m not even there.”  Newt states simply, as if him tagging along on his reuniting with his daughter is something totally normal.  “And I have her present, I don’t think you’d want to forget that.”  And apparently it was completely normal, because five minutes to eight, Graves apparates to Prospero Circle with his arm linked with Newt’s.  It’s an agonizing seven and a half minutes that they wait, made a little easier as Newt chatters on about the creature Graves will be giving to Everett.  While he won’t be doing any of the caretaking, the information dump Newt gives him is rather soothing, especially the reassurances that “she’ll love her.”

When he sees the top of Orville’s tall head over the crowd, Newt slowly trails off as Graves grabs at Newt’s wrist and squeezes tightly.  Newt doesn’t comment on it, or tell him to let go when Graves’ grip tightens as his father-in-law and daughter break through the crowd.  The desire to run to his daughter, to pull her close to his chest and promise that he’ll never let anything touch her again, is so powerful he takes a step forward.  Newt suddenly slipping his arm from Graves’ grip only to snatch his wrist instead is the only thing that stops him.  He knows the magizoologist is right.  It would be too much too soon to hope that his daughter would be accepting of a hug after only just asking to even see him.  Still, it’s his daughter, his baby girl.

His darling daughter, with a large scar that branches out over half her face. Oh, of course he'd known about it, the health of his children one of the first things he'd asked about when he woke up all that time ago in medical. He'd even seen a picture, though briefly as he couldn't stomach the sight of the poorly healed scar and horribly malnourished image of his daughter the picture provided. But seeing it with his own eyes makes his blood boil with the desire to find Grindelwald and liquify his bones or rip his organs through his nose.  He knows plenty of spells that can do that and more.  He would have no qualms about using them against the dark wizard.

When they get close enough to speak, Orville’s eyes are shimmering with unshed tears and he doesn't hesitate to pull Graves into a tight, welcoming hug.  It's a little awkward, but Graves relishes it.  Its been so long since anyone has touched him in such a manner and Orville had never been shy about taking Graves into the family.  While Newt introduces himself to Orville, Graves kneels on the ground to put his daughter at a higher position to himself.  She looks nervous, but the steely look in her eyes and defiant set to her jaw is reassuring.  Everett was hurt by Grindelwald wearing his face, but she wasn't broken.  She's willing to try and understand and give Graves a chance.  And a chance is all he'll ever ask for.  He wants to reach out and touch her.  Place his hand over her scar and smooth it out of existence.  She doesn't reach for him, so he doesn't make a move towards her.  She just looks at him for a moment, before raising her head a little higher and holding out a stiff hand.  He shakes it gently.

“Thank you for coming, Father.”  He gives her an awkward smile.

“Anything for my little girl.”  For a second he sees a flash of the child that used to ask for another cuddle when she was feverish, that scrapped her palms climbing trees, and cried over her favorite books.  Vulnerable and wishing for her Papa to kiss it better and make it all go away.  The moment passes, and the expression is gone.  Newt steps forward for a handshake and introduction, beaming in excitement and it seems to make her relax a little.

They pick up breakfast at a small cafe, to hopefully ease into this whole situation.  It’ll give Everett time to decide if this is really something she can do, and it will give Graves time to calm his still shaken nerves.  Breakfast is, well it's not a quiet affair by any means.  But it isn't awkward or stilted.  Newt does most of the talking, telling Orville and Everett his tamer adventures while they wait for their food.  He’s mid tale about how his kleptomaniac of a Niffler once stole the crown of some Middle Eastern prince when said creature tries to make a daring escape.  He doesn't get far, as Graves is an Auror and notices things.  It also helps that he catches a glimpse of something shiny out of the corner of his eye as the thing leaps from Orville’s chair.  He makes a wild lunge and snatches the thing mid leap and holds it out over the table.  The thing looks utterly unrepentant about holding a battered gold pocket watch in his paws, but gladly gives it up when Graves offers him a pair of scorpion collar pins with emerald heads from his pocket.  Goldstein had informed him one day when he walked in wearing them that Grindelwald had worn them every day.  Graves started keeping them in his pocket for this very reason.  It was easier than giving up something valuable to the beast.  The Niffler happily gave Orville’s pocket watch back and sat calmly on Graves’ shoulder.  Fortunately, he decided not to latch onto Graves’ face, though he did occasionally place some impromptu kisses to Graves’ cheek, and instead quietly inspected and cuddled the collar pins.  This provided a little entertainment and further levity to their conversation, but had the bonus of making Everett far more receptive to her father.  It's hard to be wary of someone when they have an adorable thieving animal perched on their shoulder.  This gave Graves an opening to talk as he offered up the story of his last encounter with the creature.  His daughter ducked her head several times to hide her giggles and it made the tension in Graves’ shoulders release.

 

After struggling for a moment, the Niffler begrudgingly got back in the case.  Newt talked to Dougal for a moment, while half leaning into the thing, before pulling out a covered cage which he thrust into Graves’ hands.  He handed a handwritten pamphlet to Everett and told her the basics of the new familiar she was getting.  The moment Graves received the cage he peeked inside and sure enough there was a sleeping Clabbert hanging from a swinging perch.  Everett strutted about Prospero Circle, insisting she would carry the cage, and proudly showing off her unique familiar to anyone who stopped for even a second to stare while Newt reassured Orville that “she won't bite her unless she mishandles her, she's perfectly tame, I promise.”  Graves had no idea if Ilvermorny would allow her to take it to school, but if they had an issue with it he'd find some way to convince them to let her.

Newt tried to leave after that, insisting he had errands to run.  Though Graves suspected he had simply shown up for the same reason he had let the Niffler steal Madam President's brooch.  Now that Graves was obviously more relaxed Newt had fulfilled his goal and felt like he was intruding.  This was nonsense to Orville, and he demanded that Newt join them.  Everett wouldn’t let Newt argue as she began asking questions about her Clabbert.  And if there was one thing Newt couldn’t do, it was not answer questions about creatures.

Back at the house, before the party, Mabel gives Graves a warm greeting, holding him in a too long and rather emotional hug.  He honestly hadn't seen either of his in-laws since his son's sixth birthday party and the comfort their physical affection brings him is just as soothing as it is a stark reminder of what he's been missing, and will continue to miss, when he goes home alone.  While it hurts, Graves is willing to get whatever he can right now.  He gratefully accepts the hug holding on just as tightly and even allows the kiss to the cheek she gives him.  He's a little embarrassed that when she pulls away he subtly follows her, body craving the gentle touch as much as his mind is ashamed of the desire.  He can't hide the movement from Mabel, or from Orville, and the two seem to make it their personal mission to provide casual physical touches every chance they can.

Theodore is oddly happy to see him, which allows Graves to momentarily forget about his mortification over his new found need for human contact.  While his son doesn't try and barrel him over with a hug as he once would have, he does take Graves’ hand and drags him about the house.  Newt had gone to follow but is quickly roped into helping Mabel and Orville prepare for the party.

Theodore’s pet Kneazle, which he had finally settled on naming Nora, happily follows him everywhere.  At first the thing gives Graves a long, piercing look and he wonders if she's going to attack him.  Fortunately, she doesn't.  Instead Nora walks up to his leg and rather purposefully, and in no way playful, rubs up against his legs and covers the entire bottom of his black slacks with fine silver hair.

The party is about what Graves expected, loud and happy and it makes his skin itch.  But Everett doesn't stop grinning as she shows off her familiar and smugly tells all her friends that her father got it for her.  The moment she'd brought it out of the cage, the Clabbert had been clinging to her, hanging off her like a tree and watching everything cautiously, but without fear.  Newt had awkwardly introduced himself to other party guests as “a colleague of Mr. Graves,” while Graves had corrected him by introducing him as “a friend.”  Gwen gave Newt a once over, turned to Graves, and wiggled her eyebrow at him with a half teasing half confused look.  He ignored his sister, not quite sure exactly what she was getting at.

As the party wound down and it was just Newt, Gwen, his children, and his in-laws left Graves finally gave Everett the second half of her gift.  When his daughter opened the small box and found the bracelet inside, she looked up to him.  A questioning expression, both confused and incredibly hurt, and there is that vulnerable look in her eyes again.  This time Graves acts on it.  Gently pulling the bracelet from the box, he held it in one hand and offered his other, open, empty hand to her.  She shakily gave him her left hand and he, oh so gently, slipped the bracelet over her hand.  The moment it touched her skin, it shrank to fit snugly over her wrist and the little gold Wampus stretched and yawned, looking up at Everett.

Into the silence, Graves spoke telling Everett how he had once proposed to her mother, his hand still delicately holding hers.

 

 

_ When Percival told his parents he was going to ask Arlene to marry him and requested her hand in marriage from her parents, there was a huge uproar between the two families.  Over which grandmother's ring would be used.  Both sides of the Graves’ family tree had big lavish rings and while the Sullivan's never had a lot of money, both sides had beautifully tasteful rings as well.  Arlene was one of several granddaughters on the Sullivan side, but none of the other girls were old enough yet, and Percival and Gwen were the only Graves cousins officially related to the Graves’ line.  It was an amusing argument to watch.  He heard from the family servants that Orville had resorted to sending minor jinxes through the mail while, to Mr. Graves horror, Mrs. Graves had childishly sent over a thousand live toads magically crammed into one envelope back.  Apparently, the Sullivan's were still finding them hopping about their house months after Percival and Arlene got married. _

_ He let them have at it, all the way up until he finally proposed.  Arlene hated jewelry, she only wore a pair of simple earrings, and that was because her brother had bought them for her when she was six.  He knew Arlene would never wear a ring, so using either of their families’ rings would be a waste.  He knew the best he'd ever be able to do was a bracelet.  Something out of the way and unobtrusive.  So, he had spent months searching for someone who would make what he was looking for. _

_ When he proposed, and slipped the bracelet around her wrist, she'd laughed a watery, happy thing, and said he'd have to get one that matched.  It was a simple seamless gold ring with a small Wampus that laid flat against her skin, and the moment it touched her wrist, the bracelet shrank to fit snugly against her body.  The Wampus would run about the ring, and growl at strangers, and protect her from most hexes. _

_ When they got married she produced a similar bracelet with a Thunderbird, wings outstretched, and placed it about Graves’ left wrist.  He could feel the warm thrum of magic against his pulse and he swears it sent a warm tingle up to his heart.  They linked the bracelets to let them know when the other was in danger or hurt and sometimes, when they were missing each other, Percival would swear he felt the gentle touch of her fingers clasped over his wrist in the same way she did over her bracelet when she was worried. _

_ During his captivity, there were times when Grindelwald had tried to ask personal questions.  He was usually able to guess a lot of the answers because of what was known about the Graves’ family line, or based off what his children were telling the dark wizard.  But a source of never ending annoyance to him, and endless relief to Percival, was the fact that the man had never guessed the true significance behind the bracelet.  He assumed it was a simple means of protection and saw it as a challenge to find ways around it to maximize Percival’s torture.  He never bothered trying to duplicate it, figuring it would never be noticed so long as his jacket sleeves covered his wrists.  It was one of the few things that soothed Percival, that this hideous excuse of a man wasn't walking around “married” to his wife. _

_ When Grindelwald had struck Arlene down, the metal of his own bracelet had grown so hot it had burned his wrist. _

_ Later, when Percival woke up in medical, the mediwizards had told him the burn around his wrist would fade in a week with treatment.  He told them not to heal it, to leave it be. _

_ He wanted this imprint, this inscription upon his wrist. _

 

 

When he finished speaking, Everett was staring down at the bracelet blinking furiously.  The room was quiet around them and Graves realized that at some point the others had taken Theodore from the room to give Graves some time alone with Everett.  She swiped at her face almost angry with how she was losing control over her emotions.  The Wampus on the bracelet, made quiet noises and rubbed its cheek against the soft skin of her inner wrist in a comforting manner.  She suddenly reached down and circled her free hand around the bracelet in a way that made Graves’ heart ache.  After the tears cleared, and she had calmed down enough, she pulled her hand from his.  Before he could pull away she had grabbed his hand and pushed the fabric of his shirt and jacket sleeves up.  His left wrist was now empty, but the clean scar left by the bracelet’s burn was still there.  She ran her fingers over the small head of the screaming Thunderbird, and down the outstretched wings.

“You never….”  She stopped herself, pressing her thumb into the body of the bird, right over his pulse.  “The man, the one that wore your face and hurt us, he never wore it.”  Her fingers were warm, almost unbearably hot where they were pressed against the too sensitive scar tissue.  Moving his hand slowly to avoid dislodging her grip, he adjusted his hand to push up the sleeve covering his right wrist to show the gold glint that encircled it.

“I never took it off.”  He told her as the Thunderbird, which had been lying still and practically lifeless since Arlene died, was now ruffling its wings as if waking from a long sleep.  She gazed up at him then, eyes red rimmed and lashes damp from unshed tears.  But she was looking at him, actually  _ looking  _ at him, as if seeing him for the first time.

“Papa?”  She said, quivering and broken at the edges, he could feel tears stinging in his own eyes, but he did not blink, unwilling to break eye contact with her.  “Can I have one last present?”

“Anything for my little girl.”  He repeated the promise from before, and he meant it every time.

“Tell me what happened.”  So, he did.  Everything, as best he could.  Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to tell a ten, nearly eleven, year old even if he avoided giving the more gruesome details.  But she deserved the truth, she deserved so much more that he knew he couldn’t give her, but he could give her this.  And he knew it wouldn’t change everything, that it wouldn’t fix his relationship with his children, but it would help get her there.  And for the first time since he closed the door on his children’s empty bedrooms he felt hope that they really would get there someday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _A/N: Woah, I hadn't realized exactly how long this chapter was until I went to post it here. I kind of laugh a little at that after having said I didn't like the length of chapter two originally and that's why it was split into chapter two and three. Well, I would have split this one too, and the next one, except then I would have had to cut it in odd places. Part of it might have been the number of flashbacks in this one, I had a few, but they were important for me to establish Graves connection with his daughter. Everett is similar to Graves in my mind, at least more similar to him then she is to Arlene. But that isn't the only reason they are close, it's also because Graves loves children and he and Arlene were struggling to conceive. That automatically gives him a stronger connection to Everett then it did to Theodore, despite how much he loves both his children. I wanted to keep this chapter about Everett and I didn't want to split this chapter or put the flashbacks in another chapter or remove them. They were important for me and for getting what I wanted across._   
>  _When I was thinking up these scenarios with Graves children and Graves children themselves I thought about what exactly I wanted each child to be like. And primarily I wanted them to be just that, children. It bothers me when there is an OC child and they are like this perfect child. Part of that might be because I'm an older sister, but specifically I'm an older sister to a boy who is nine years younger then me. I babysat a lot. My little bro, his friends, and occasionally now my older sister's kids. And even the kids that are good kids are not perfect. So I wanted to try and make these kids seem real, because that's what I strive for with all my OCs._   
>  _It wouldn't have been right to me to have his children forgive him right away for what happened. For Theordore, I started with him because in my mind he is the kind of person who feels emotions very strongly but the emotions dissipate quickly, as part of his personality but also due to his age. He's only 7, was 6 during his captivity. I feel like he didn't really understand what exactly was going on. He just knows that his daddy was good, and then one day started hurting him and his sister, and then wasn't around anymore. People explained to him that it wasn't really his daddy that hurt him, but he doesn't understand how that is and also doesn't necessarily care, he missed his daddy and just wanted to have him back. It's sad but you hear cases of abused children wanting to go back to their abusive parents after being taken away because they love them and want to be loved by them. I feel like that's the case with Theodore. He was confused and is confused by the whole situation but he just wants to have his daddy back, despite the hurt that was caused "by him."_   
>  _Now for Everett. I really wanted to make her right. She's a strong girl, who is a lot more in control over her emotions compared to her brother, however when she does feel strongly about something she doesn't let it go easily. She was deeply hurt by what her "father" did, and it was explained to her that it wasn't him but that doesn't mean the hurt is just going to go away. She is 10, turning 11. She needs someone to blame, and the easiest person is her father. But she is also still a kid and loves her parents. She's been strong through her imprisonment because she was the oldest and determined to protect her little brother, but she is getting a chance to actually feel vulnerable and she deserves that chance. It helps that she sees her father, who she was connected with before the incident, also react vulnerably. It helps her really understand that he didn't do all those things to her or her brother._   
>  _As for other things in the fic, I took a while picking the Clabbert out for Everett, seriously go check out the Harry Potter wikia and you'll understand why I picked it. Back to the flashbacks for a moment. Arlene is in no way supposed to be a self insert or something, I made her personality drastically different from my own specifically to avoid this. I did, however, put in something of myself into a character. Her original desire to not have children. I personally don't want kids, I have literally no desire for it. And I've already decided that if I ever change my mind I'm going to adopt. With Arlene is and always will be a strong willed and independent woman to me. Being married to Graves isn't her giving that up, it's just her being with the man she loves. And I feel like, for me who has no desire for children, if I loved someone as much as Arlene loves Graves, maybe someday I'd look at them and say "yea, I want to raise a child with this person." I still would like to think I'd personally adopt, but *shrugs* who knows._   
>  _Anyway, thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I'll see you next chapter!_


	5. Love, You Gotta Let Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt is a lot more bold then people give him credit for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title comes from the song Satellite by Sara Hartman. I feel this fits better then the last couple songs. I listened to this song a lot in general though, not necessarily while I wrote this fic. Give it a listen ([link here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ivKR7cVL-nY)).  
> Title from the chorus:  
> I could love you if you let me  
> But love you gotta let me

When they finally leave the Sullivan’s home, Graves is pulling on his coat as Newt is thanking Mabel for having him when Orville approaches Graves and casually adjusts his collar for him.  Like all the touches throughout the day, it’s nothing meaningful, but it holds meaning in how they treat him as if he is equally normal as he is fragile.  He wants to give Orville an unamused look, but it comes off more grateful then he means it to.  The older man doesn't say anything at first, instead giving Graves a look of his own, something fond but sad.

“He’s a nice lad.”  Arlene’s father manages to finally say, glancing over at Newt who is vigorously shaking Theodore’s hand, getting the boy to laugh over the exaggerated movement.  He's pretty sure Newt wasn't doing it for that reason, as he also happens to be telling Theodore some “interesting fact” as well.  Graves wants to ask what Orville is getting at, exactly, but doesn’t get the chance.

“You always did like the adventurous sort.”  Gwen snorts into his ear as she nudges him with her elbow before getting an embrace out of him.  Before he can ask she’s saying something about needing to head back to work, nodding her head in farewell to the Sullivan’s, and apparating out.  Mabel comes over next and leaves another kiss on his cheek, her eyes slightly watery and her smile wobbly at the edges.

“It’s good to see you happy.”  Arlene’s mother says, despite the troubled expression.

He doesn’t understand what they are all saying, but he says goodbye to his children and leaves with Newt all the same.

 

He doesn’t understand, until a week later, when Newt awkwardly stands in front of his desk a minute before five.

“Would you accompany me to dinner?”  He looks at Graves’ left ear, and his cheeks are dusted with an attractive pink, and his hands fidget in front of him, but he’s standing up straight for the first time and Graves is caught so off guard he says yes.  It’s the right thing to do, because Newt’s eyes meet his, and he gets one of those blinding grins in return before the younger man is ducking his head and practically running out of the office to get his coat from his own.

It’s the wrong thing to do, he thinks as he pulls on his own coat and the backs of his knuckles accidentally brush against the Thunderbird on his wrist when he adjusts his cuffs.

It’s only the beginning of September.  It hasn’t even been a year yet, since Arlene died.  And he’s going out to dinner with Newt.

While they enjoy a pleasant meal, and Graves ends up smiling more than he means too, he tries to convince himself that, perhaps, this isn’t a date.  That they are just enjoying what they’ve had during lunch these past months just later.  But it's hard to do that when the candles are lit low, and their knees bump under the table, Newt's fingers brush against his several times throughout the meal, and the younger man rarely breaks eye contact with Graves.  It's a lovely evening, and Graves would have to be an unfeeling doorknob if he said otherwise, but that doesn't mean he can't try even as Newt _walks him home_.  He tries, at least, until they have made their way up the steps to his door and Graves turns to Newt, the words “this isn't going to work” waiting on his tongue.  Newt steps closer though, head ducked and eyes trained on Graves’ shoulder.  This close Graves can see just how far his lashes reach against his cheeks, what color his sparkling eyes really are, the exact number of freckles on his face.  The words die in Graves’ throat and the two are left, standing there, too close for friends but not yet close enough for something more.  Newt is the first to speak.

“I know that this might not be the best of times… that you aren't ready yet.  But human… courting rituals are so confusing to me, this was the easiest way for me to show you how I feel.”  A soft, amused huff leaves Graves as he realizes Newt had nearly said “mating ritual” but had corrected himself for the sake of properly conveying what he wanted.  He understands Newt's dilemma.

“The easiest way would have just been to tell me.”  Graves argues, weakly, as Newt manages a half step closer.

“Would you honestly have accepted dinner if I'd started by telling you the purpose?”  Newt asks, looking up at him through his bangs somehow, even though he is taller than Graves.  That does give him pause as he imagines that scenario playing out.  He may have been surprised into saying yes to dinner, but that's only because a part of him wanted this, a part that he'd been ignoring.  If Newt had flat out told him the intention of dinner, Graves would have most likely gently rejected him.  By doing this, by showing him exactly what it was Newt was intending, it bolstered that part of him that knew what he really wanted.

“I guess not.”  He admits.  Newt gives him a small grin and he knows it's because Newt had gotten to know him so well and Newt is proud of that fact.  Graves can't help but feel proud too.  Newt slowly lifts a hand and places it against Graves’ collarbone and slowly leans in.  At first, he freezes up, he is _not_ ready for _that_.  But Newt's lips press soft, and warm against his cheek instead.

When Newt pulls away Graves instinctively follows, but immediately reigns himself in.  He hasn't blushed like this in a long time, part in embarrassment, part something else entirely.  But Newt is looking at him in a way that can't be interpreted as anything other than what it really is.

“I had a lovely evening, thank you for joining me, perhaps… perhaps we can do this again sometime?”  Newt is earnest and confident and passionate about anything he cares about and to know that Graves is one of those things has his heart fluttering.

He agrees.

 

Newt's first success with the new creature laws is a big one.  Those most willing to learn Newt's new approach have been transferred to Newt's department and have been taught how to diffuse a situation and calm almost any animal, as well as any people involved, to properly contain the creature before releasing it in a sanctioned piece of land.  There are only four people working for Newt, all former BCE Wranglers who had proven too “soft” for the task of Beast Exterminator.  They don't have titles and there isn't an established hierarchy yet, but Newt is making progress with them, MACUSA, and, surprisingly, the public.  It helps that Newt is a bit of a celebrity around New York.  As the man who not only diverted the greatest disaster to the Statute of Secrecy the US has ever faced, but also as the man who managed to capture the most powerful dark wizard of their time.  It makes him trustworthy and it makes people listen.  It's something Newt isn't used to, which is obvious after the case had been put to rest and he was accosted by a group of journalists.  They all want to know the juicy details, and Newt doesn't know how to give them without stuttering or saying anything he isn't supposed to.  He looks to his team and Graves for help almost immediately.  Graves steps in for the rescue and gives the press enough to sate their curiosity and send them on their way.

The official story goes: some (idiot) smuggler decided it would be a good idea to sneak a baby nundu, of all things, into the states.  The team used all of Newt's training to calm the nundu when it escaped and managed to convince it into Newt's case so it could be transferred to a sanctuary that would take care of it.  The unofficial report is that there were _two_ baby nundu and they had escaped after killing their captor and his four cohorts.  It was a misconception that baby nundu were less lethal, Newt explained to Graves and his team later that they were actually far deadlier, and that had turned fatal for their would-be smuggler.  They trotted about some residential section sometime in the early hours of morning, and while the team did manage to calm them enough and convince them not to kill anyone else, Newt was only just barely able to get them to go into the case.  And that's only because Daisy bounded out without permission, corralled them into cooperation, and then nudged them into the case.  Newt now had a very protective female nundu with two adopted children and there was no way he was going to be giving the babies to anyone.

“There really isn't anywhere I _can_ send them.”  He admits to Graves when he gave the magizoologist a raised eyebrow at the news that he was keeping them.  “When I got Daisy, she was a newborn, hadn't harmed a single person, and they were already trying to kill her.  Nundu are dangerous wild animals, but they kill only when threatened, just like any dangerous creature.  Just like humans, actually.  It's not their desire to kill, not always, but we force them into those positions.”  Graves started to understand Newt's point of view a bit more after that.  Newt may have given the nundu the name Daisy, and she may answer to it, but that was her choice.  She was in no way a pet or domesticated.  No one had control over her, not even Newt.  “It's a mutual agreement really.  I may have raised her from a cub and she sees me as a mother of sorts, but if I were to threaten her in any way that doesn't mean she won't try to kill me.  I understand that, don't ever assume I don't.  But so long as we treat all these creatures with the respect they deserve, there won't be a problem.”  Aside from the deaths of the perpetrators, it was considered a success and the next day the papers would be praising the new beast unit as being more successful than the BCE.  The last time something similar had happened it had been a small herd of Hippogriffs.  The BCE had tried to capture them but knew nothing of how to handle them, this had led to two Aurors nearly losing limbs, another almost dying, and several No-Maj’s seeing everything and needing to be Obliviated.  It had been one of MACUSA’s few embarrassments.

Graves took Newt and his team out for drinks after he'd diverted the press.  His own team, having caught wind of this, leapt at the chance to socialize with Graves as they used to.  He nearly ran them off as they all had to return to their desks in the morning and none of them had completed any worthwhile work.  Surprisingly, Newt is the one that convinced him to let the investigative team join in the celebrating.

“It'll be good for everyone.”  Newt had argued and seeing as Newt got uncomfortable with large groups, Graves took it to mean that Newt thought it would be good for Graves.  He'd sighed, sounding weary and put upon, but secretly he thought that perhaps Newt was right.

“Fine, but I'm only buying drinks for Newt and his team.  You lot haven't earned that yet.”

“S’fair enough.”  Deputy Finley shrugged.  The rest of the night had been… pleasant.  Oddly.  Graves had avoided large social gatherings, aside from Everett’s birthday party, worried about how he'd interact with them all outside of work.  It was easier than he'd thought it would be to relax around them.  He'd bought Newt and his team drinks like he promised, but his own team had taken it upon themselves to each buy Graves a drink, and to make sure he never had an empty glass in hand.  By the time they all stumbled out at way too early in the morning, Graves wasn’t sure how much he’d had to drink, but it was enough that Newt was helping to steady him.  It’s the drunkest he’d been since the War and Theseus Scamander and Rosental had both tried to outdrink him and failed.  He doesn’t want to be this drunk again, but it’s still good.  The whole thing is still good.  Newt apparates them to Graves’ home, and he’s glad that at least one of them is still almost entirely sober, because he knows he would have made it home, but he’s pretty sure he might have ended up on the roof if he’d tried to do it himself.  Newt is giving him what can only be described as a look of fond disappointment.  Graves is dumped on the couch as Newt locates some water and Graves attempts to read the letters that arrived earlier from his children.  Theodore is still sending him letters, bolstered now by the fact that his sister had decided to tell him it was ok, and Everett was now sending him letters from school as well.  The words all blur together on the page though, and when Newt returns Graves asks as politely as he can manage if the younger man will read them for him.  There’s a grin and an “are you sure” but Newt is already grabbing them from him and sitting on the couch next to him.  Only three lines into hearing Newt’s soft voice telling him all about how much Everett is already in love with her wand, and that her Clabbert, Athena, is the talk of her housemates, when Graves loses consciousness with his head pillowed against Newt’s shoulder.

When he wakes, Newt had been kind enough to lay Graves out on the couch, and is there to prompt a foul-tasting potion down his throat and make sure he gets to his office without incident.  Graves is grateful to see he isn’t the only investigative team member who looks like they just got chewed up and spit out by a dragon.  But not as grateful over the fact that Newt had stayed.

 

There are a few more tentative… dates, after that.  There really should be a better word for what he’s doing with Newt, but it’s the only one that comes close.  It’s just dinner, which is immensely enjoyable, and conversation, which is even more so, but it’s also fleeting casual but intimate touches and soft edged eyes and the slightest upturning of lips.  It’s good and sweet and different from what he’d had with Arlene and that’s good too.  Newt also starts asking him for more personal favors, rather than the ones that have to do with work.  It mostly involves helping him around the case, and all of it Graves is sure he isn’t necessary for.  The real intent is most likely just so that he can be introduced to some of the more dangerous creatures.  It’s an obvious “courting” tactic, as Newt has met both of Graves children it seems only fair that Newt introduce all of his own “children” to Graves.  That’s what he suspects at least, Newt also could genuinely need help, as he proves when he requests assistance in ferreting Dougal out of hiding, as the Demiguise had disappeared the moment Newt realized the poor thing had a rather painful cavity.

“The wretched thing will have to go, but unfortunately he isn’t too fond of things near his mouth that aren’t food.”  Newt doesn’t elaborate further on that, but Graves can only imagine as Newt had told him the tale of how he had found the poor creature not all that long ago.  Whatever the reason for Newt asking him into the case, its slowly become less of a stressor and eventually he has learned to relax even while giving the Erumpent a bath and avoiding getting slapped with her horn.  The very horn that could explode someone if it pierced them.

Graves knows better, now, than to even think that everything is ok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _A/N: Baaah, ok. This chapter was a LOT longer, I cut like 2/3rds of it out because it was just too long and because I was having the same issue that I had with chapter 2/3. In that there is some stuff between Newt and Graves and then I go into some emotional stuff and I just, I want to keep that stuff separate. Like it just doesn't feel right to have a chapter where Newt and Graves are furthering their relationship and then get into the death of someone who Graves really loved. So I've cut that part out and it's going to be made into another chapter instead. It'll work out better this way anyway._   
>  _Now for the chapter. One of my favorite facts is that Newt has a fucking Nundu in his case. Like dude, the hell. It specifically says in the actual Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them book that you can NOT tame a Nundu. I like to imagine that he did, that Newt is just that amazing that he would manage to get a Nundu to just roll over for him, wrapped around his little finger, all that. But, I wanted to do something a little different. I once watched a little documentary on the animal channel or something about people who keep exotic animals for pets. There was this one random guy, wasn't rich or a celebrity or anything, he just somehow acquired two tigers and had these two tigers as pets. He had a young daughter too who was like, seven I think. Anyway, one of the things that struck me about it was I remember him saying that the tigers aren't pets. They are predators and dangerous and he has a bond with them, they don't hurt him or his daughter but he also knows they aren't pets like a house cat or dog. They stayed in large pens in the backyard, they weren't allowed into the house and his daughter was not allowed to interact with them unless he was there to supervise. He highly respected these animals and never underestimated them or treated them as anything less then a dangerous animal. Despite this he loved them and treated them almost like a pet. In this way I wanted Newt to be like that. He's a magizoologist, highly empathetic towards creatures, and intelligent. We see how much he loves all his creatures and how protective he is of them, but he also highly respects them and completely understands they are dangerous creatures and never once tries to treat them as if they aren't. As for the baby Nundu, I went back and forth for a bit with that. I've read a lot of fics where they say the Nundu babies are less venomous and I know that's the case with some animals. But I just kept thinking about how scorpions and spiders and snakes you want to avoid the small ones or the babies because they are more venomous. Or sometimes not necessarily more venomous, but with baby snakes they have the same amount of venom as an adult snake. But an adult snake knows not to inject all their venom into a prey because if a predator attacks while it's eating it needs to be able to defend itself still. But a baby snake doesn't know that, so when it attacks it releases all it's venom at once, which makes it more deadly then the adult. So that's the reason why I did that._   
>  _I do still personally love the image of him cuddling with a Nundu and telling her she is a pretty girl. Which is why I did give into my desire to make her a girl. I also like the idea that he names all his creatures either something kind of weird or something super fucking normal. Like Dougal? What even is that name? I love it. Or Frank for a Thunderbird? You are such a dork Newt, I can't stand it. So I named the Nundu Daisy. Because he would totally be the person to name an extremely dangerous and deadly creature after a pretty flower. I don't think I mentioned it here, but I also have a headcanon that Newt also picks names that the creature agrees to, you know how Pickett responds to his name, or how Dougal does his. I feel like he just goes through names and they pick the one they like. My main headcanon though, is that the reason why Niffler doesn't have a name in the movie is because Niffler likes shiny things and names are particularly special so when Newt tried to give him a name the Niffler only likes the sound of everyone elses name and wants to steal them. Ha, yea, it's silly, but Niffler is cute and a little shit, so I see him doing that._   
>  _As for the date with Newt. Again, I want Newt to have confidence in things he wants while still being awkward. But is also super considerate and is moving at Graves' speed. But is also awkward enough that this might just be his own speed. I don't know, I have this idea for Newt but I have no idea if I'm actually doing a good job at writing him *shrugs awkwardly* sorry Newt._   
>  _Anyway, hope you enjoyed, see you in the next chapter._


	6. Lost Me All I Wanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard moving on. But moving on doesn't mean forgetting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this chapter was titled Don't Shy From the Light from the song of the same name by Neulore. I tipped back and forth between that and the title I settled on because I do really like the song and I think it does fit the story. But I went with this title instead because I just really liked the line it comes from. The title is from the song The Trapeze Swinger by Iron & Wine. I don't know if the song really fits this series but it's a song I really enjoy. There is a lot of imagery that is really great, like a common thread throughout the song is graffiti being written on the walls and pearly gates into heaven, written by the people who don't make it into heaven. But my favorite line is the one that I chose to use for the title. If you'd like, here's links to both songs: [Light](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ZwbZQcr-xY) and [Swinger](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yt7O8gDy0DA).  
> Title comes from one of the verses:  
> But, please, remember me  
> My misery  
> And how it lost me all I wanted

This time around, Graves is fully prepared for the upcoming date.  Or as prepared as one can get.  He couldn't forget or ignore this, even if he wanted to.  It’s October, in a week he’ll be turning 41.  After Everett had gone off to school, Graves had been counting the days, to fortify himself for what was to come.  He’d made sure to call Goldstein and Deputy Finley into his office to inform them that under no circumstances did he want _anyone_ to mention his birthday, now or ever.  He didn’t want them to try and throw him a party as Rosental had every year before, or get him presents, or even wish him a “happy” one when he came in.  The two didn’t ask, and he was grateful he didn’t have to explain.  Off they went to spread the word and when Newt came during lunch, he told the man himself.  Birthdays didn’t seem to overly concern Newt.

“I’ve never been good at remembering such frivolous dates… don’t tell Theseus but I wouldn’t even remember his if Mother didn’t send me a reminder when it came around.”  He grinned mischievously, or at least as much as Newt Scamander can.  “Children deserve to feel special, but once you reach a certain age it becomes all so tedious.”  Graves wonders if Newt even remembered his own birthday, and the thought made him smile, even if it didn’t quite sit right on his face at that moment.

October ninth lands on a Sunday, and no one makes a peep.  There’s no work, and no mail, and no disturbances.  Everything is quiet, and calm and just what he needs.  He doesn’t get out of bed.  Merely lays in the small cot he has set up in the study trying to decide what to do with a free day like this.  He comes up empty and ends up sleeping.  It should worry him how tired and exhausted he feels just from the day itself, but he can’t really be bothered.  Orville and Mabel had tried to convince him to come for dinner either the day before or the day of, but the very thought had been hard enough, and he politely told them that he just wasn’t feeling up for that.  They’d understood, of course they did.  It made him feel worse somehow, they needed some way to cope, and being together and holding each other together was how they did it.  But Graves couldn’t do that right now.  Later, maybe later, next year probably, but this year was his.  They had been kind enough to make sure Theodore didn’t say anything about the approaching date in his letters and he suspected they even told him not to send him anything the day of.  Everett was busy with school and he’s nearly positive she completely forgot.  Gwen he’d simply told he didn’t want anything and she’d been fine with not trying to figure something out.  Newt didn’t stop by either, which shouldn’t have felt like a blessing, but did.  Whenever he did, Graves always felt better afterwards, no matter how he felt about Newt popping in out of nowhere at the start.  But he knows that he wouldn’t be able to do it, not today, if Newt had decided to try.  So, overall, it’s peaceful, and quiet, and boring, and just what Graves needed.

 

The next day, he almost stays home but remembers the stack of paperwork on his desk and convinces himself to go in.  He feels useless today, having already spent a whole day doing nothing, and the work will distract him.  Perhaps it would have made more sense for him to stay home.  He couldn’t sleep the night, he can’t even look at food, and he feels bone weary.  He isn't sure if it's sheer stubbornness or necessity that keeps him together at this point, but he almost feels it might be a relief to let himself just break.  Because then, maybe, it wouldn't hurt so much.  But he doesn't.

Both Goldstein and Deputy Finley seem surprised to see him, and they exchange worried looks as he passes.  He ignores them.  The work doesn't really help, but he doesn't imagine it's hurting either, if he wasn't here he'd be at home.  Alone and empty.

He manages to get to lunch time before things start to splinter around him.  He's decided to ask Gwen if she wants to get lunch, he won't eat, but anything is better than staring at his empty desk for an hour.  He's just stepping out his office door when he sees Queenie approaching him with her usual stack of letters.  She gives him one of her beautiful smiles, with the dimples and everything, and hands him a letter.  There's no name or postmark on it, only his first name in a script he doesn’t recognize.  He seriously assumes it's a letter from someone inside MACUSA, as he can’t really think of any other explanation for it.  Inside is a simple white card, with nothing but that same unfamiliar script and the words:

 

_41 is a good age, too._  

 

He can almost hear the voice behind it.  His own voice but different.  There is a brief moment before it fully registers exactly who this is from.

He can’t suppress the full body flinch the sudden image that the letter gives him, the image of his own face smiling down on him in a mockery of kindness.  He hears Queenie gasp, and his eyes shoot up to meet hers.  Her eyes are overflowing with tears and she’s scattered her stack of letters across the floor when she reached up to cover her mouth with both trembling hands.  Graves realizes that his Occlumency had been shaken for just a moment, and for the first time since he’d met her, Queenie had managed to _see_ into his head.  He gives her a soft, monotone “thank you” before he turns right back around and just barely keeps from slamming his office door shut behind him.

His vision flutters and swims before him.  His breath is coming too quick and his body feels like it's trying to shiver out of his very skin.  His heart skips several beats, it's running so fast, and he feels a sweat breaking out across the back of his neck.  He should have stayed home.  Alone and empty would be better than _this_.

Queenie is outside his door, he can hear her apologizing through the solid block between them but he can’t bring himself to tell her it’s alright and that he’ll be fine and not to worry.  Because it’s _not_ , and he _isn’t_.

There is a stretch of silence.  And then she’s gone.

He doesn't know how long he spends, leaning against the door trying to find some way to hold himself upright, trying to get up the courage to leave his office and face the wide eyed, worried expressions of his team.  He’s never broken down in front of them, it’s just not something you do as a Director, as a department Head.

At some point, Finley knocks firmly on the door and asks him what she can do to help, what he needs.  He keeps silent, because if he opens his mouth now he doesn't know exactly what will come out.

There’s silence.  And she’s gone.

At some point, Goldstein knocks softly on the door and asks quiet enough only for him to hear if he wants her to find Newt.  He tells her no.

Silence.  She’s gone.

He buries his face in his hands, digging his short nails into his scalp, and the pain, it's the pain, that ends up helping.  He's starting to breathe easier, his heart is still thudding painfully against his ribs but at least he doesn’t feel like it might stutter still.  It makes him angry, and sick, that it’s pain that helps.  That gives him focus.  How weak is he, that he needs to resort to this, of all things, to hold himself together?

There's another knock at the door.

“Mr. Graves?  Is it alright if I come in?”  Newt.  He opens the door wide enough to let the man in.

“I didn't ask for you to come.”  He hisses, angry that his wishes have been ignored.  Why can't they just leave him alone?  “What do you want, _Mr. Scamander_?”  He stalks about his desk, putting some distance between them so he can feel properly removed, feel some semblance of control.  Newt doesn't take offense from his tone, or his words.  Instead, he's looking Graves in the eye, unwavering and undeterred.

“Queenie and Tina said something happened.  Do you want to talk about it?”  His voice is soothing, it's as soft and non-threatening as Graves has ever heard it.  It's the voice he uses to calm his beasts.  For some reason this makes Graves irrationally _furious_.

“ _No_ , I do not.  I'm not one of your abused _animals_ , Newt.  I would appreciate it if you didn't treat me as such.”  Newt doesn't flinch, doesn't react, merely nods his head and takes a step forward.

“Alright, I'm sorry.”  He says, his voice pitched odd as he's trying to be helpful but unsure how to speak to Graves.  “What can I do for you?”

“Nothing, Newt!  You can't do anything!  This isn't something you can talk your way through.”  He's shouting, but he doesn't care.

“Percival-”  Newt whispers, and Graves knows what he's going to say before he does, and he can't stand it anymore.

“She’s gone!  You can't fix this, Newt!”  And that's it, isn't it?  Suddenly the anger is gone, gone and all that's left is a deep dark hole in the center of his chest.  “You can't fix _me_.”  Newt doesn't falter, doesn't look away as Graves leans over his desk, one hand on the smooth surface, the other pressing into his temple hoping to stem the sudden headache that comes with holding back such strong emotions.

“I know.”  Newt says, and Graves screws his eyes closed, shutting the image of Newt, standing there, desperate to be helpful, out.  There's more he knows Newt could say, might say.  Like “but I can try” or “but you can” or “I’m not trying to.”  He could say any of them, or all of them, or none of them.  Newt let's out a long, soft breath.  “I know.”  Is all he says.

  
  


 

_In Percival’s experience, those who have been tortured or held captive for any stretch, the lack of time is one of the worst torments.  You have no way of knowing how long it lasts or how short it really is.  It could be weeks or months or days or hours.  He’s talked victims through time lines to help relieve some of the stress or pain that comes with this brand of torture._

_He’d never thought of the opposite being used._

_Grindelwald keeps Percival on the floor of the front room of his house.  With the blinds drawn, he can’t see outside, but the brightness of sunrise is hard to mistake, and the final rays of the day give one last spill across his ceiling to allow Percival to track the passage of time.  He keeps a calendar up on the wall in the kitchen, and when Grindelwald leaves Percival has a clear line of sight.  One of his subordinates gets an odd amount of glee taking a No-Maj pen and slashing out each day that goes by.  At the beginning, he’d held out hope that someone would show up to help them, to save his family where he was unable to.  But with each rough cut into the calendar he knows no one is.  Sometimes knowing the date was a boon, keeping Percival afloat as Grindelwald dug his fingers deep into a cut on Percival’s back.  Reminding him of everything he fought for.  On Everett’s tenth birthday, Grindelwald had poorly stitched the bones in Percival’s hands back together, just so he could re-break them with his own fingers.  Percival didn’t make a sound, as he thought, instead, about his daughter’s smiling face when he’d given her a set of collar pins that matched a pair that he owned.  The same pair she had stared at fondly as she grew older, and used to touch her tiny fingers to when he’d pick her up from her crib._

_Sometimes knowing the date was its own type of brand, burning deep into his heart and head and making him wish he would just give in because maybe some of the pain would relieve then._

_On the morning of the tenth, Grindelwald crouched next to Percival and gave out a long, disappointed sigh._

_“You didn’t tell me it was your birthday yesterday.”  There is a bloodshot look to his stolen eyes and his dark hair is disheveled.  Percival knows that Grindelwald could easily cover up the effects of a night out drinking with Gwen and the investigative team, so this hungover look was for Percival’s sake.  “I understand, even if I think it’s a little silly.  Forty is a good year.  It’s nowhere near as good as some years, but another year alive is always a good year, in my opinion.”  There was a smile there, balancing on the edge of Grindelwald’s lips like a razor blade.  It’s secretive and almost conspiratorial, as if Percival is his friend.  As always, Percival kept silent.  “The problem I have, Percival, is that if I’d known I would have gotten you something.  Something special.  Now I’m going to have to come up with something.  After all, you only turn forty once.  This isn’t going to be as elaborate as I would have liked, but I’m working under a time constraint now.”  Grindelwald turned his wand, Percival’s wand, towards Arlene.  She’d stood motionless and lifeless in the corner, eyes glazed and far away.  “Arlene, darling... come here.”  Grindelwald crooned and she did, because she’d been hurt too long, under the Imperius curse too long.  There wasn’t much left of her to fight with.  “Say goodbye to your husband.”_

_“Goodbye, husband.”  She said, monotone and foreign, and Percival knew_ **_exactly_ ** _what was happening.  He knew what was going to happen but he didn’t quite believe it._

_“Is that anyway to bid farewell to the love of your life?  Let’s try it again, Arlene.  Look Percival in the eye, and tell him ‘Goodbye, my love.’  Can you do that for me?”_

_She looked down, dead eyed and vacant, but Percival couldn’t keep his eyes away from them all the same._

_“Goodbye, my love.”_

_“Excellent.”  Grindelwald knelt closer to Percival, laid a hand over the back of Percival’s head, and stroked his hair, almost comforting in his gentleness.  “Now it’s your turn Percival.”  He was silent, as always.  Grindelwald turned Percival’s head to look up at him.  A smile of genuine kindness and pity that looks strange on his face.  “Now, now Percival.  This isn’t the time for that.  Say goodbye to your wife.”  Silence.  Grindelwald pulled in close, turned Percival’s head again to look up at Arlene, whispered right into his ear.  “Percival, please do this… you’ll regret it if you don’t say something.”  That time, Grindelwald pulled away, his hand leaving Percival’s head, and he stood, taking several steps back so he was out of sight.  Almost as if he was giving them privacy.  Percival could still hear him and his subordinates shuffling about behind him._

_He almost thought about not giving in, not giving Grindelwald the satisfaction.  But he also knew that the man is right.  If he laid there, looking up at his wife, and stayed silent, he’d regret it if he makes it out alive.  He hesitated a little longer, the sudden collection of emotions clogging his throat even as she looked blankly back at him._

_Her skin was paler, a little tight about her face, dark shadows under her eyes, and a haziness to her gaze.  She was stock still like a mannequin, like she’s was made of stone, but he could see the outline of his wife underneath it, the pieces of her that couldn’t be beaten away.  He could see the small wrinkles about her lips and eyes that would crinkle when she smiled or laughed.  There was a smoothed crease between her eyebrows from drawing together in worry, or when she was trying to keep silent as he kissed her in delicate places.  The freckles on her face stood out more in her then pale skin and he could see the constellations scattered there, that he’d picked out with his fingertips.  Her hands shivered, just the slightest bit, and he caught sight of a glint of gold on her wrist, felt the warm throb of magic on his own, her heart beating strong against his pulse._

_He looked her in the eye, opened his mouth._

_Before the words could leave his throat, there is a hushed silence as an elegant streak of green, a falling star, a lightning strike, streamed across the room and hit her square in the chest.  She’s gone before her feet even wobble.  She had been gone for weeks.  And if he was honest with himself there was really no other way this could have ended, so it shouldn’t hurt as much as it did.  But those dead eyes lost their glossy sheen, cleared up and looked as if she was seeing for the first time even as she collapsed to the floor inches in front of Percival.  There was a burning in his wrist, the smell of singed flesh, but he didn't feel it.  If Percival could have reached forward, just a little bit, he could have touched her cold skin.  His mouth was still open, and there were tears hanging onto the edges of his lashes._

_“I’m sorry, you were taking too long.”  Grindelwald said, sounding apologetic, as he moved forward and crouched next to Arlene.  Her eyes were on Percival, her upturned hand reaching towards him.  Grindelwald pushed the hair from her face so that Percival had a clear view of her.  “But you brought this upon yourself, Percival.  You had the chance to end this at any time… she’s dead because of you.”  He said, soft, and sad, and true._

_There was a silence in the room, and she’s gone._

  
  


 

They leave almost immediately after.  The fight had left Graves and he just wants to be gone.  Newt follows, silent and just… there.  Graves wishes he could be angry about it, but he can’t be, not after he’s let it all out.  He’d never told anyone about what exactly happened to Arlene.  Not President Picquery when she’d asked for a report, as soon as he felt well enough.  Not Gwen when she’d helped him pack away the old home and scour his blood from the walls.  Not Ina, or Mabel or Orville, not Everett or any of his team.  Having told Newt, it’s both a relief and a heavy weight.  He feels ashamed that he’s gotten so close with another person, like he’s betraying Arlene in some way by giving up something so personal to someone else.  When they leave his office, he ignores the not so subtle concern radiating from his team, as Newt trails behind him at a respectful distance.  He apparates home as soon as he reaches the acceptable zone, and he isn’t overly surprised that Newt follows.  He tells him to leave, and Newt looks at him, from under his bangs.

“Is that what you want?”  He doesn’t respond, because he doesn’t know, so he lets the magizoologist follow him through the front door.  Inside, he stands in the center of his front room, coat still on, shoulders tensed.  It’s a different front room, the set up almost the complete opposite of the home he’d shared with his family, but he can almost see the after image of where Arlene would be laid out, as if this is where she’d been killed.

“My wife is dead.”  Graves says aloud.  She's dead.  He thought he’d understood this, that he was dealing with it.  He had been wrong.

“Yes.”  Newt confirms from behind him.  His voice is soft, in no way comforting like with his creatures, just quiet.  He’s not offering a platitude or anything other than this simple form of acknowledgement.

“It’s my fault.”  Graves says, because this too is true, and he knows it and has known it since Grindelwald first started torturing Arlene in Graves’ place.  But it had been left to fester and spread its infection.

“Probably.”  It’s not accusatory, it’s a simple statement of fact.  It still causes Graves to turn and look at him, surprised by Newt’s confirmation.  “But how many lives did you save by keeping silent?  What would Grindelwald have accomplished if you had told him what he wanted to hear?”  These are all things Graves has known and all things he’s told himself from the start.

“Does it make me selfish that I wish I had?”  And he’s honestly asking, he’s not saying it to sting, he wants to know the answer.

“Maybe.”  Here Newt shrugs awkwardly, he puts his case down next to the couch and takes a couple steps closer.  Close enough that if they reached out they could link fingers, but far enough away to give Graves the space he obviously wants.  “I can claim to know a great many things, but the complexity of human emotions isn’t one of them.  I can only tell you what I think.  Maybe it is selfish, but I don’t think it’s _wrong_.”  It is reassuring, oddly.  He wonders how much Newt’s claim of not understanding humans is really true.

“Why are you trying so hard to comfort me?”  Graves finally asks, just as confused and curious for an answer as before.  “Why do you care?”  Newt ducks his head, for the first time since he entered Graves’ office earlier.

“This is what friends do… isn’t it?”  He seems unsure, like he doesn’t know.  He probably doesn’t.  Graves can feel his shoulders fall, feels himself crumble a little.  “And because I like you.”  It’s honest and in no way hesitant.  “If never anything more, you are my friend.  I’m not asking for more than what you are willing to give.  I’m not…”  He hesitates now, steps just a little bit closer, now within Graves’ personal space.  “I’m not trying to make you forget her.”  Graves feels even more hollowed out, looking at Newt with more vulnerability than he has ever looked at someone before.  “She was your wife, and no one can change that.  I just… I like you, Percival Graves and… and I think I may love you.  But I’m not trying to replace her, because no one can.”

Oh.

_Oh._

It's not what Graves was expecting and the sudden acknowledgment from Newt shatters what little control Graves had left.

He finally breaks down.  Fully, and completely, sobbing into the floorboards as he kneels at Newt’s feet.

His wife is dead.

It’s his fault.

His wife is never going to see their son in an Ilvermorny uniform, or their daughter perform magic with a wand.  She is never going to see their daughter graduate, or their son live his dreams.  She is never going to hold their daughter, or lay a kiss upon their son’s forehead, or touch her fingers to his own ever again.

But it's ok because he saved more lives than he lost.  He did the right thing.

And it's ok for him to feel selfish because it isn't wrong.  He isn't trying to replace or forget her.

It's ok.

Newt doesn’t hesitate to kneel next to him, a hand hovers over Graves’ shoulder and stays there.  Newt doesn’t touch Graves, and he knows he’ll never be able to voice how grateful he is that the man doesn’t.  He wants the comfort, practically craves the soothing balm of physical contact, but the idea of finally, properly, mourning his wife, and receiving such an intimate touch from someone else while he does would surely break him.

They stay like this for a long time.

 

Graves takes the rest of the week off.  President Picquery tells him she'll run him out of MACUSA if he doesn't take the next week off as well.  He spends the whole time trying not to think about work or the investigation into how Grindelwald had even managed to send that letter.  The first several days is passed finally unpacking the boxes in his study and allowing Newt to put an expansion spell in the office’s closet so that he can have an actual bedroom, instead of the cot he's been sleeping in.  He finally gives in and accepts that invitation to dinner at the Sullivan's because he misses his son.  He accepts several more invitations when Theodore shyly asks if Graves will come back again soon.  He writes more letters to Everett when she starts getting better at sending replies on a regular basis.  And he smiles as she tells him all about her new friend and her favorite teachers.  Newt shows up almost every day for lunch, and Graves isn't sure if he should scold the British man for possibly slacking at his job or thank him for being so persistent in making sure Graves is taking care of himself as he tries to pull himself back together (and this time properly).

When he tries thanking him, Newt startles slightly.  “Actually, it's not as altruistic as that.  Tina says I need to start eating better.  This is as much for me as it is you.”  So, Graves scolds him instead, for possibly slacking _and_ for not taking care of himself.  Newt merely ducks his head and grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _A/N: So it had to happen eventually. I couldn't very well further Newt and Graves relationship without going into the loss of his wife. No one gets over the loss of a spouse easily, and I wanted to try and convey that through Graves interactions with Newt throughout the story and I don't know if I got that across at all. With the scene where Graves talks with Newt in his office. Previously, when Graves was having a panic attack or stressing, Newt was helpful, his presence and words helped calm Graves. But this is a different emotion and a different loss so I wanted Newt to be not as effective. But I also wanted to address how Newt approaches things. Newt has a lot of empathy. One of my favorite scenes is when he finds Credence in the subway. It was such a touching and heartbreaking scene. Partly due to Newt's profession, and also because it's also just a common thought that a soothing voice is more important then the words you say, it's common to approach someone like they are a spooked animal. But Graves having been imprisoned and held captive and hurt and manipulated, I feel he wouldn't react to being treated like an animal all that well. Which is why I had Graves react the way he did to Newt's tone. I didn't want to make it an easy fix, and maybe I still made it an easy fix, but at the same time, Graves deserved a breakdown and he hadn't gotten one yet._   
>  _That was a big part of PYPA, and I tried to keep his anxiety attacks as something that he didn't really seem to understand what they were. I wanted this breakdown to mean something, because he hadn't been allowed to break, and he technically still isn't supposed to. But I feel like he needed it. He needed this chance to mourn his wife and to mourn what was taken from him. And the best way to do that is to let the emotions out, which is something he'd been avoiding. Because for so many people breaking down emotionally is the same as breaking. He wasn't allowed to give into Grindelwald, so Graves of course saw it the same way. But he needed this, so that he could move on._   
>  _Dates! I mentioned in the chapter 1 A/N that I used a random generator a lot for the dates that I chose. When I originally started this fic I had a lot of ideas and dates that needed to be hit. I wanted his children to both have birthdays within the time period of their imprisonment and I wanted Graves to have his birthday within that period too. So I eventually decided to make a timeline and use a random number generator to give me the months and days for a lot of the dates. I went all the way back to the beginning just to give myself some understanding of important events in Graves life. I have a whole timeline that has Graves date of birth, when Graves and Arlene got married, everything. Now, you might not believe this, but I did not originally intend to have Arlene's death occur the day after Graves' birthday. I love the drama, but I did not do it on purpose. I had Graves birthday randomly generated way back in chapter 1. But based on my own constraints from PYPA I knew Arlene had to die in October. I made a mention at some point that his children were ignored for 3 months while Grindelwald tortured Arlene and didn't start hurting them until after he killed her. So with their imprisonment starting in July, that put her death in October. And then I generated the day of her death and kept on working on the fic. When I got to this part of the chapter though, and I went to look at how to write it I hadn't realized until then that her date had been set right after Graves birthday. Believe me or not, it's the truth. I could have changed it. But what can I say, it was too much to resist._   
>  _When it came to her actual death I jumped back and forth between things. I had some ideas for what would be more torturous for Graves to do with Arlene after she died but I left that out. Possibly because it didn't fit into this fic, and also because it would have dragged it all out further. And I didn't want to make this more then it needed to be._   
>  _And finally the last talk with Newt. I knew from the beginning of the fic I wanted Newt to tell him that he wasn't trying to replace Arlene or make Graves forget her. I even had this whole scene idea with Ina and Graves talking about moving on and how it was ok, but I scrapped it because I couldn't figure out how to fit it into the story. I still imagine it happens, maybe I can work it into a third part, or I'll just add it to that "scraps I couldn't fit in" work I plan on posting at some point. Either way. Graves loved Arlene and he spent a large chunk of his life with her by his side. I'm working on a third part and she's still going to be brought up. So it's something that needed to be said._   
>  _Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I hope it worked, thank you so much for reading and I'll see you next chapter._


	7. What is Enough, is Just to Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not everything is perfect. But that's ok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title comes from a song that I think fits this series perfectly. It's Once I Was Loved by Melody Gardot. Give it a listen and try and tell me it isn't perfect ([link here](https://youtu.be/Rw7QqhGRk9Y)).  
> Title comes from, I guess it's the chorus? Whatevs:  
> But what I am certain  
> What is enough  
> Is just to remember that once  
> Once I was loved

Newt's, and his department's, first failure was quiet and quickly swept under the rug.  With months of good work and proof that his methods were for the greater good, President Picquery decided it was best to keep it from the public.

On a cold, dreary evening in late October, an unknown wizard with dark intentions released a Hidebehind in Central Park.  No one is exactly sure how long it was there before they figure out it is, but it's agreed that it was probably something close to a week.  Or at least that's how long the accounts of “strange animal attacks” are reported by the No-Maj law enforcement and MACUSA imply.  It's a lot of head scratching from Newt's team and the BCE as they try to figure out what exactly it is.  It isn't until their fourth night patrolling the park before they do and it isn't until one of Newt's juniors nearly bleeds out when it rips one of their arms off.  Before Newt can make it to his junior and even attempt to subdue the Hidebehind, Kidd and his team take it out.  He's never seen Newt yell at someone the way he did Kidd, with enough venom and utter hate that the BCE head actually looked a little sorry.  Later, Newt sits in front of Graves’ desk and shakes his head at the glass of liquor Graves offers from the sideboard.

“It's in their nature to attack humans, but not because it's necessary.  Whatever anyone might say, I'm not trying to defend it.  I just think people should understand that a creature's worst act shouldn't define everything it is.”  Newt says, as he crosses his forearms on Graves’ desk and rests his chin on top.  He looks exhausted and there is red around his eyes.  “When I found the Swooping Evil, his primary food source was human brains.  While I've weaned him onto other, more acceptable, sources that will still sustain him, it doesn't change the fact that he killed and ate humans because that is how they are biologically wired.  A Hidebehind… their need to attack and eat humans have nothing to do with biology nor is it out of fear of humans, they do it out of anger and hate… they are a product of human cruelty.  They are only doing what we have taught them.”  Unable to keep still, Newt ends up leaving to check on his junior.

As for Newt's team, everyone is exceptionally quiet when Graves enters their small, cramped, shared office hours later, after he's heard the news.  They look upset and angry, jittery and shifting at their desks but unsure where to put their emotions.  Newt has his own office in a broom closet of a room in the back of their office, and when Graves goes in he finds Newt looking like he's going to flee into a forest somewhere and never come back.  He wouldn't be surprised if the young British man did just that.  He's dealt with dangerous creatures, had his fair share of scars, but he's never been responsible for another human as he is now.  His junior will live, but may never go out into the field again.  Magic can do a lot, but a limb isn't easily fixed, even when the culprit isn't dark magic.

Newt doesn't look at Graves when he enters, though he is facing forward.  His hand is wrapped about the handle of his case, where it sits on his desk.  Both hands clench and unclench sporadically, as if he is trying to talk himself into staying, or perhaps into leaving.

“It isn't your fault.”  Graves states, though Newt almost immediately shakes his head.

“I could have prevented it.”  He whispers to his shoes.

“Maybe.”  Graves has an odd sense of déjà vu, and Newt must feel it too because he gives a humorless laugh.  It seems to be enough to dispel Newt's doubts, though, as he releases his case and awkwardly shuffles closer to Graves.  Newt still won't look up, and he knows the younger man won't ask, so he makes it easy.  Stepping forward he directs Newt's head to the crook of his neck, keeps his hand on the back of his soft hair, and his other arm loose but comforting around the thin back.  Newt goes willingly and gives a soft, wounded noise when Graves brushes his lips against the crown of his head.  Newt is silent as he cries and barely moves.  Graves wouldn't even know it was happening if it wasn't for the the occasional wet drip down his neck where Newt has carefully pressed his face into the white, starched, collar.  Instinctively, Graves pulls Newt closer and whispers the only reassurance he can.

“It's ok.  I've got you.”

 

After everything settles, Newt goes home.  He's hesitant to leave as his team knows what to do, but they aren't him.  Not to say he doesn't trust them, there is just only so much you can teach someone, only so much unexpected you can prepare them for.  Which is very much apparent, and an aching wound, as his junior is still laid up in medical.  Plus, Graves knows it's because the British man is worried that once he leaves, the impulse to flee might come back and this time he might give into it.  Graves reassures he'll keep an eye on things, Newt's family deserves to see he is alright for themselves.  He doesn't have to mention that he has faith that Newt will return.  Newt smiles sheepishly at his comment and after only a little bit of shuffling finally leans in and plants a quick kiss on Graves’ cheek before running out the office door with a small wave behind him and slightly pinked cheeks.  Graves won't think about how he'd leaned into it, or how his skin tingles where Newt's soft slightly chapped lips had pressed into his skin.

He's only gone for a week, but it's enough to put Graves on edge.  He doesn't feel so cracked open as he had before, but his fingers itch, oddly empty when he's never reached for Newt before except that one moment of comfort.  He now had regular dinners with the Sullivan's and Theodore, still gets regular letters from Everett, and Gwen has swept in for lunches while Newt was away.  His caseload is as strong as it was before, his Aurors still come to him almost every day with some inane question or important puzzle piece.  So, it's not that he was lacking for something to do.  And it's not that he was necessarily lonely.  He just found himself looking up, searching for someone who wasn't there.  But that wasn't an unfamiliar feeling for Graves, so it was easier to live with.

When Newt returned, he looked relaxed and back to his usual self.  He swept through his department like a storm, disrupting the order Graves had arranged while he was gone, and breezed through the investigative branch as he usually did.

“See, your office is still standing.”  Graves teased when Newt perched on the edge of his, the one opposite Graves desk, chair.

“I never had any doubts.”  He grinned at Graves, and for the first time, Graves felt the urge to kiss Newt.  He imagined his lips would be soft, but he knew they were chapped from so much time spent outside in the cold.  But he'd be determined and passionate, like a live wire against Graves’ mouth.  He felt instantly light headed with a soft contention, and sick with a swift drop of his stomach.

Instead, Graves gave him a brief smile and went back to his work, Newt sat silently across from him for several hours.

 

November goes by quietly, which is nice after the rollercoaster that Graves had been going on since he left medical all those months ago.  He had the distinct feeling that things were going to be a bit more normal from here on out.  Mostly because there is a tension that released from his entire body after that night in his living room.  A tension he hadn't acknowledged was there until it was gone.

Thanksgiving comes faster than he was expecting, but for once he doesn't feel so anxious or like he's walking on a glass tightrope.  It isn't really that big a holiday amongst the wizarding community compared to the No-Maj population, not like Christmas or some of the other holidays, but an excuse to have family get togethers, eat a lot of food, drink just as much alcohol, and have an even better time is enough for most anybody.  This year Graves is looking forward to the holiday.  Ilvermorny sends the students home the day before and doesn't expect them back until the Sunday after, and both Everett and Theodore have agreed that they would like to have a trial run at staying with Graves.  They'll come over on the morning of Thanksgiving, stay the night, and be returned to the Sullivan's the next day for a second Thanksgiving dinner with Arlene’s parents and Gwen.

Graves works the day before Thanksgiving only to come home and clean.  Newt shows up not long after he starts and gives him a poorly concealed amused look, that Newt tries to hide behind a duck of his head.  Graves tries not to feel self-conscious, though there's no reason why he should.

“You clean when you're anxious.”  Newt comments, and Graves startles.  He scowls at Newt and purposefully shoves the cleaning bucket back under the sink despite knowing there is probably something that needs cleaning.

Newt doesn't ask, and Graves doesn't offer, but at some point, it is mutually agreed that Newt is staying the night and joining the Graves’ family for dinner the following night.  It's not that Graves wants a buffer.  And not at all because he's anxious or nervous.  He just thinks his children might enjoy having Newt there.  Theodore had been asking about him and Everett had seemed to take a liking to Newt when she'd met him, so Graves figured it would be best to ease them into this.

 

In the morning, Orville shows up with two small luggage bags and his children.  The older man raises his eyebrows when he sees Newt in the living room.  He's cluttered with several Occamy wrapped around his arms and neck, a Niffler clinging to his hair, and trying to wrangle a mischievous Demiguise, all while attempting to shove them back into the case.  Orville gives Graves a knowing smile and Graves acts like his cheeks haven't turned pink even though there is absolutely nothing going on that he should feel embarrassed about.  He also tries to act like he’s hurt by how his children completely ignore him in favor of running to Newt's side and ganging up on him.  They have a billion questions about their pets and a billion more about the interesting creatures Newt is currently covered in.  They talk over each other and barely take breaths in between each new inquiry.  Graves can’t keep up the act when there is a pleasant warmth in his chest at seeing his children acting like… well, like themselves.  Theodore had been so quiet and shy since their captivity, and Everett had been angry and stiff.  When he looks to Orville, he can see the same joyful and teary eyed expression that he knows is on his own face.  They share a brief embrace before the man leaves Graves with his children and Newt.

When he comes back to them, Newt had quieted both children.  It’s a feat that makes Graves pause for a moment in the threshold of his living room.  Arlene had always encouraged their children asking questions and being curious about the world and everything in it, so when it came time to rein them in they always struggled to do so.  Graves because he never wanted to make his children feel like they should be apologetic for pursuing knowledge, and Arlene because she never wanted her children to feel like nuisances for asking questions of the world.  Not to say his children didn’t ever drive himself or Arlene crazy on occasion, that was just the way parenting went sometimes.  But now, after everything, Graves wanted his children to grow up knowing that no one had control over them or their lives except themselves.  Still, seeing how easily, and simply Newt had managed to get his children to listen was a marvel.  It's possible Newt hadn’t even done it on purpose, as one of his favorite things to do was educate people on creatures and their proper care.  But Graves had a sneaking suspicion that Newt had known exactly what he was doing.  They are all sitting on the floor cross legged, and his children and Dougal are each cupping an Occamy in their small hands as Newt does his best to answer every question they had asked him in order.  He guides them through feeding the Occamies, and shows them the most ticklish spots on a Niffler’s stomach and they giggle as a small wave of Graves’ collar and tie pins, cuff links, coins, and some odd shiny knick knacks fall out.  Graves probably would have stayed in the doorway, just enjoying watching his children, except a hand tugs at his pant leg and he finds Dougal standing next to him, the Occamy he was holding half in one of his palms and half twined up his arm.  The creature’s large golden eyes stare up at him innocent and somehow sad.  Graves isn’t quite sure what to do, but he gives the Demiguise a gentle stroke to the top of his head and the creature closes his eyes in obvious contention before reaching for Graves’ hand.  He lets the creature lead him towards the trio where Dougal separates to climb up onto Newt's back and leave Graves standing awkwardly next to the group.  He clears his throat and crouches to be on eye level with his children.

“Is it alright if I join?”  He asks, quiet and in no way hopeful.  Theodore looks to Everett for confirmation and she nods.  His son wiggles to the side and gives Graves a big grin as he holds out the Occamy he was watching.

“You can have my Occamy, Daddy.”  He proclaims as Graves settles next to his son.  He cups his hands towards him and is gently handed an Occamy.  Theodore parrots back everything Newt had just told them.  It's all stuff Graves knows from his own conversations with Newt, but he still nods his head and makes the appropriate oohs and ahhs at how quickly his son had picked it all up.  Everett butts in occasionally, quietly bickering about who's right, while being careful not to agitate or jostle the Occamies.  For the most part, Newt happily nods along, but pipes up to patiently interrupt with corrections or help with proper pronunciation.  They sit there for quite some time before Graves realizes if they want to have turkey for their Thanksgiving dinner he should get started on it.

It's a quiet affair compared to the Thanksgiving his family has had in the past.  But it's nice.  It's good, even.  Graves let's his children talk for the most part, telling him about catching bugs in the garden and magic lessons.  Newt occasionally gives them a short story of his childhood, which usually consists of Hippogriffs or how trying to catch doxies without the proper training can be a bad idea.  Graves hesitates before telling them stories of his own, of growing up with Oliver and going to school with their mother.  The kids are excited to hear about ‘Uncle Oliver’ and Arlene and ask for more.  He can't tell his children no.  So he keeps going.  He tells them about their summers attempting wandless magic and the mischief their mother got into at school.  Newt pays rapt attention as well, and several times when Graves glances in his direction he sees a soft smile on his face and what Graves can only describe as an adoring look in his eyes.  It's odd seeing that look directed at him.  As the night winds down Graves sets his children to getting ready for bed and finds Newt at the top of the stairs.

“Thank you, Newt.”  He says as he sticks his hands in his pockets.  The younger man startles slightly.

“What for?”  He genuinely doesn't seem to know.  Graves smiles, shakes his head a little.

“For being here, for being so good to my children, for… for helping me.”  He admits and the British man ducks his head.

“It was really no trouble, your children are wonderful, there's really no need to thank me.  I wanted to help.”  He gives Graves a shy smile and Graves gives in.  He reaches out and places a hand on one of Newt's cheeks getting a startled look from the man.

“I'm not thanking you for doing it.  You didn't have to, but you did.  That's why I'm thanking you.”  Graves hesitates a heartbeat, taking an aborted step forward, faltering inches from Newt, before stepping just a bit closer.  He brushes his lips against Newt's opposite cheek.  It's soft and warm, hot even and when he pulls back his face is dusted pink.  He feels that urge to put his mouth on Newt's again and almost gives into it.

Theodore calls to him from his bedroom and Graves pulls back, not ready to go just yet, not ready to pull away completely from Newt.  Everett joins in calling to him, in an exasperated and tired tone.  He pulls away, backing up slowly before turning and heading into Theodore’s room.  Theodore politely demands a story and Everett sits at the foot of the bed pretending like she isn't waiting to hear one too.  Something with adventure and dragons and wizards.  Graves doesn't remember exactly what tale he spun, probably something his mother once told him and Gwen.  It doesn't matter, Theodore listens to every second, rapt and eyes sparkling, but still complains sleepily afterward.

“Why'd the wizard kill the dragon, Daddy?  The dragon didn't do anything wrong.”

“I don't know Theodore… sometimes people fear what they don't understand.  And… sometimes there are people who aren't very nice.”

Theodore nodded solemnly, rubbing at his eyes before burrowing further into bed and falling asleep in two seconds flat.  Graves watched from the doorway as Everett crawled into her own bed and pretended she wasn't tired at all.  He faltered a moment in the doorway, watching as she picked at her blankets, with her chin tucked against her chest.  Her curls swung down around her face.  In the dim light of her reading lamp the side of her face that was scarred was darkened and for a moment he could convince himself that everything was as it once was.  As he turned away, she called back to him.

“Father?”  Moving back into the doorway he doesn't respond, merely waits for her to feel ready, as he has and always will.  “I love you.”  She whispers, quiet and determined as she looks up.  The light catches across her scar and glitters in her eyes.

“I love you too, darling.”  He whispers.  He wraps his fingers around the warm circle on his wrist.  She gives him a terse nod, her fingers touching the Wampus on her own wrist.  Graves clicks the door shut behind him and turns to find Newt still standing at the top of the stairs.  His coat is hung up over a chair in the kitchen, the top two buttons undone on his shirt, the suitcase tucked into a corner of the front room, but he still looks relaxed.  The only light on in the house comes from somewhere down the stairs and it sparkles through Newt's hair and spills across his freckles and leaves shadows dancing on his face and neck.  Newt smiles shyly at him, his cheeks still slightly pink.  Graves smiles back, feeling like maybe it was ok that things weren't how they used to be.  There was still a dull ache in his chest that he knew wouldn't go away.  His children were always going to carry scars on their skin and hearts for his failures.

There were always going to be men that were more monster than the dragons they hunted.

But life was ok right now.

And for Graves, that was all he wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _A/N: Alright! You made it to the end! Thanks so much for sticking through and reading this fic. Feel free to leave me a comment to let me know what you thought. Liked it? Hated it? Let me know! I'd love to hear from all of you. :)_   
>  _So I could have ended it with the last chapter and it would have been fine, I'm sure. But I wanted to finally resolve something. Which was Graves and his children still living in separate homes. Now they aren't officially back with him and I'm not sure when they will be, but this is a step closer. You'll also notice there were no flashbacks in this chapter. I might show flashbacks in a third installment if I do one, but possibly not. They were more of a visual indication of Graves holding onto what he'd lost. If I do a third installment, they'll be there to further the plot and that's probably it._   
>  _I also wanted to have a little more of Graves and Newt interacting. Specifically, I wanted Newt and his department to suffer a loss or failure. A lot of fics focus on the idea of his changes succeeding. Which I think they would. But they would still have their failings. I was originally going to have the creature be a Lethifold but one of my favorite fic series used that creature and did it all so amazing that I didn't want to try. I chose a Hidebehind because they specifically hunt humans and are vicious so in a sense killing one would be justified. But they are believed to be a creation of accident and hunt humans out of malice due to how the person who created them treated them. So it's one of those grey zones. I also wanted a brief moment of loss for Newt. Mostly to give him more to care about. He has a department now and a group of people who listen to him and probably look up to him too. But also to give Graves a chance to comfort Newt, after everything Newt has done for him, it was time for Graves to be there just as emotionally for Newt as Newt has been for Graves. Especially with some of the resolution that came with the last chapter._   
>  _And then I needed to end it which is how the whole Thanksgiving thing happened. I wanted a little piece of Graves with his children and Newt all interacting. I like the idea of seeing them act domestic in a way. I like the image of them sitting around the table like a family, to give a glimpse to Graves what he has despite everything he's lost, and what he could have in the future. I honestly wasn't entirely sure how to end this fic. But I wanted it to be quiet and soft, especially after how emotional the last chapter was. So, honestly, I don't have as much to say about this chapter as the previous chapters. I just wanted to tie up some loose ends in this chapter and I did._   
>  _I originally planned to continue this story on, but I have an idea and I figured it would kind of seem different from this fic, because it would be focusing on some actual possible plot? So it's going to be a third part if I can figure out where exactly I want to go with it. Which is why I also ended it here is so that I can work on this third part, but if I don't finish it then at least the series has a semi-finished ending. Not cut and done, but there's a hint of what you can expect happens to Graves in the future and that is enough for me as well._   
>  _So thank you all again for reading this series and I love ya all for taking the time to read my work. I hope you enjoyed it and have a fantastic day!_


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